#i was in a great mood & now i want to cry <3 excellent.

[angeltrapz]

hm :)

[dwindlebunnies]

Emotions rant

I'm having trouble feeling like I'm fitting in at my new job. I've been there since August, so it's not that new. And still I don't feel like I'm a part of the team - 4 librarians in an all-girls high school.

It's not that I can point to anything specific that they've done. And it's not that I expect to be great friends with them - they've all been there for between 3 and 8 years.

I feel like it's a nightmare for my ADHD - sitting still, switching tasks too quickly to get much work done. The tasks range in difficulty and importance, and I'm never sure with what I should ask for help and what I'm expected to do alone.

I was put in charge of all the library's displays without being consulted? Like I knew it was partially my responsibility, but now it's entirely my responsibility, and I had to find out about it from the other library assistant, probably about a week after my manager had the conversation with her. About me. When I had assumed it was a collaborative project.

That being said, it seems that the whole process still has to be run by everyone, even though I'll do the bulk of the work.

I'm on two weeks holidays starting today, and thank god for that. But, I'll be doing work on my holidays to prepare for a display I need to set up next week. I was made aware that they expect a display made on Ancient Greece - a photobooth and some kind of doorway piece - probably columns and a roof. I have virtually no budget and no materials with which to work. Luckily I'm an artist and craftsperson so I do have some things I can utilise. But I know even if or when I can pull off this project, I won't get any praise or thanks.

I keep thinking it's just an issue with communication - I don't take criticism well, and I'm used to trying to interpret signals to find out if someone doesn't like me. To me, the absence of warmth indicates dissatisfaction. But these women are just not very warm people, so I'm left either thinking they're always dissatisfied, or that they never are. I end up feeling so sensitised to how they're all reacting to me that any change in the mood makes me wary.

There's also been a few times where we've played a game of telephone - I've said something, another has interpreted what I said in bad faith and repeated that to my manager, and then I have to explain to her what happened from my own perspective, and it feels like she just doesn't believe me.

Like today, I was using a document my coworker had made. I was referencing the information she'd gathered to copy into an Excel sheet so I could sort that information in a way that made more sense to me. It's the information about what different subjects are studying, so I can base future displays on current class topics. The way it was laid out in the domcuent she had made was hard for me to read.

That coworker saw my computer and asked what I was doing, so I explained it to her. Hours later my manager confronts me and says I shouldn't be editing the documents. I told her I hadn't changed them. She then said that it's important that the integrity of the documents remain. I said I understood, but I didn't change them. She then kept saying why I shouldn't change them. I asked her if she wanted to actually see what I'd been working on and she declined. She said she could "go back and see the changes made" or something, like she either didn't hear me or believe me when I said I *didn't change them*.

After that, the coworker who made the domcuents said to me "you know I didn't dob you in, right?" and I said "oh. Yeah?" like trying to brush it off. Because I didn't want to keep thinking about it. She said "I just told (manager) what you were doing, I didn't tell her to confront you." but like. Telling her what I was working on *was* dobbing me in. That's exactly what that is.

Unfortunately this coworker can really easily tell when I'm upset and insists on pointing it out, which makes it way, way worse. I don't want to cry. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I don't want to feel weak, incompetent, insecure, out of control. But I hate not being understood. I hate not being able to live up to people's expectations.

Often I'll hear the other librarians talking and laughing loudly in the back office while I'm working on the desk. This happens at least once a week but maybe more like every other day. I think about going back there and trying to join in, but I know I'll have no idea what they're talking about. And they might just get annoyed at me for leaving the desk unmanned.

I know I'm working hard, and I know I'm doing a good job. I think I'm doing really well in my role and I'm building good relationships with the students and other staff. I think I've helped more students find information, find books they like, access resources, feel safe. I think I'm good at this job. But that's never been even implied by my coworkers.

On days I feel awful, I try to be extra nice to the people around me. I know what's it's like to be treated badly by someone having a bad day, and I never want to do that. The days where I'm kindest are the days I'm in the most pain. But that's a lot these days.

I'm just glad I don't have to go back for two weeks. I don't know what to do. Does this sound like normal things for a new job? Am I overreacting?

[kmsml]

OMEGA X Jaehan - Xports News "IdolTist 아이돌티스트" Interview (3)

OMEGA X's leader and reliable big brother, Jaehan who has strong presence as main vocalist. He has grown stronger through twists and turns, from his long trainee life to Group Spectrum debut and the disbanding of the team, until he reached his current position.

Particularly, his passion is so great that he made a song about 'Future and Direction of Omega X' one night ahead of the official contract with Omega X. Jaehan smiles shyly and said “When I think about it now, I think I was crazy. At the time, I asked the members, ‘Would you like to listen to the song once?

Friends who walked different paths and met in a group called OMEGA X. Possessing the ability to write, compose, and produce, Jaehan has worked on many Omega X songs and is demonstrating his musical abilities. What are the strengths of the members that he sees?

"Hwichan has a unique tone that no one can easily produce. He has a clear voice that makes you feel good when you listen to it. Compared to that, he lacks confidence, so we cheer him a lot. Hwichan's natural voice is a really big advantage. "

"Hangyeom has a good musical power, so I don't have any particular direction for him. In particular, there is a unique atmosphere that makes you think that it is a voice that Koreans can produce. Every time I listen to it, I am impressed."

"Xen has a clear musical direction he wants. He prefers R&B and Hiphop, at the same time he is good in rapping. It's cool because it has a clear musical color. I respect that, I would like to support Xen so that he can make music that he likes."

"Kevin is good in communication skills. When we debuted, he only took the rap part, but one day I liked his voice. The purity of Kevin's voice is so beautiful that I've always wanted to hear it. A voice that is different from his image, is also his charm."

"Hyuk is characterized by his plain voice. The charm of the voice he have is so good that I have high hopes that it will be even better if it develops in terms of nuances and tones. He is good both singing and rapping. so I think we can develop together in the future."

"Sebin's voice is so pretty when he's doing high notes. I didn't have much confidence in myself, but I was surprised because I was able to complete the high-pitched part that made use of Sebin's strength. I remember crying and thanking him for encouraging me to do better in the future. I was moved too to know that Sebin is so sincere and concerned about music.”

"Taedong's strength is his ability to express his sincerity. I will do my best to express a voice that is husky, thick, and pure. I think the greatest advantage of him as a vocalist is that you can feel his sincerity just by listening to his voice."

"Jehyun is a friend who clearly knows what he is good at and what he is not good at. Like Taemin sunbaenim, he carries a sexy mood really well. So when I distribute song parts, I tend to share them with Jehyun right away without hesitation."

"Junghoon's advantage is his sensual and stylish vocals. Especially when singing pop songs, the charm comes better. I think he has the trendiest style vocal among the members. It seems he has a unique color that is difficult to follow."

"Yechan is a member who thinks a lot about music. I think it's wonderful that you constantly challenge yourself to do what you want to do, and that's one of his strengths. Sometimes I see him suddenly getting stuck in one thing and immersing himself in it, but I respect him because he seems to be constantly thinking and worrying about self-development."

In this way, Jaehan grasp the musical talent of the members meticulously and clearly. Then how would the members look at him?

"I think Jaehan hyung is musically meticulous and have excellent observation. I thought it was really delicate when he first caught other aspects of the pitch and beat. It's amazing when he analyzing members' strengths and weaknesses to achieve good results." (Hwichan)

"It's a pleasure when Jaehan hyung sings, It's beautiful. How touching is that the expression concentrates on the song… Hyung is so cool when he sings." (Hangyeom)

"Jaehan hyung sing really well, but he always trying to do better. Hyun's voice is really cool." (Sebin)

"Jaehan hyung thinks deeply about members and always think first before acting when it comes to work." (Taedong)

"I like Jaehan hyung who strives to do well in all fields and produces results, so cool. I support him!" (Xen)

“Jaehan hyung basically sings well and seems to have a good tone, and his ability to make music is also good.” (Jehyun)

"I don't know where he get inspiration from, but it's amazing to see how he always come up with good songs and different songs. Sometimes I wonder what Jaehan hyung thinking. Seeing him I think he is an artist" (Kevin)

"Jaehan hyung strength is being able to express various colors vocally. In terms of composition, I think the genre spectrum is very wide. I really learned a lot from Jaehan Hyung" (Junghoon)

"Jaehan hyun's singing ability is the best. I am amazed and envious every time we work together. The creative spectrum is also very wide, and he can show melodies and emotional expressions that match the emotions of any genre." (Yechan)

In this way, Jaehan is a true “Idoltist” recognized by all the members. The last "Idoltist" question to him, The difference boundary of "an idol and an artist".

"I think there is no boundary between idols and artists. Especially recently, there are many idols who are active in various fields, but I think that idols who work hard to expand their talents are also artists. If even one of the people who sees and listens to my performances and music sympathizes with me and applauds, I think that moment is the first step as an artist."

Source: https://www.xportsnews.com/article/1731075

[filthforfriends]

Guardian Angel: Chapter 3

Omegaverse: Damiano x fem reader

Word count: 9.8k

Damiano’s version of talking was texting you that he was busy today. You thought of four excellent, searing replies, but ended up sending nothing. Avoiding you was the most rational thing to do. Hell, you would avoid yourself today, sequestered at home with your mother taking a day off to watch you. On your way to explain how unnecessary this was, vertigo had you head over ass, falling down the stairs. The bruising to your tailbone felt semi-permanent and you wanted to scream like a toddler out of frustration.

So you ended up bed ridden, getting ahead in school to feel useful. You tried reading recreationally for the first time since fourth grade. Turns out the ability to chew through 400 page novels was a stage not a character trait. Your breasts still ached and the hot flashes were aggravatingly persistent. After a few bouts of crying and way too much TV, you went to bed early, feeling woozy and unstable. 

The following day was spent much the same. You conquered the shower, tried to make yourself a meal and was interrupted by tachycardia. Mx.Frankie had sent you a note and Dr.Rowan and medical report. It contained the language “agitation” and “suspected mood swings” which would have made you seethingly angry if it didn’t make you laugh. Thalia’s academy for the gifted got out early so she came to your room. Her footfalls were nearly silent, her nervous energy barely quelled. 

“You want to ask me something don’t you?” In terms of social skills, Thalia was definitely the youngest, or maybe just the least capable. She nodded and stepped into your room, and onto the carpet. Immediately she started tapping her finger tips together in repetitive rhythms.

“So now that you’re on suppressants, does he get to be your boyfriend?” She analyzes her painting, which hangs on the opposite wall as decoration, with critical eyes.

“Hypothetically, I guess.”

“Because dad’s statement is null if you have an HSIUD.”

“Right. We’ll see how that goes over,” you shrug, turning to follow her gaze, now landing on the window.

“What’s it like?”

“Tally, you have a boyfriend,” you emphasize.

“Fighting with dad. What’s that like?”

“It’s not…great, but it feels necessary. I know you hate it.”

“Just the yelling, but you’re kind of doing me a favor. Anything I ask for the next day seems perfectly reasonable.”

“Huh,” you chuckle, and she joins in awkwardly, followed by a lengthy silence. Thalia finally meets your eyes, and you know that she’s found her way to the point.

“So Oliver got into this volcanic international study program and I was thinking that maybe –”

“So you’ll be on the same work study trip as your boyfriend away from this god forsaken place, yes.”“The topography here is extremely boring, as you know.” You did, she’d complained at length. “And so –”

“Y/n, Damiano’s here,” your mother calls from downstairs. Thalia keeps talking, but your brain ceases to function as soon as you can smell his pheromones. You nod along, agreeing to what is very likely a reasonable request, given who it’s coming from.

“So you’ll let me know a couple days prior to upsetting dad?”

“For sure, Tally,” you say, before passing her on your way out of the room. Clio would be insulted if you brushed her off, but Thalia was harder to offend. You stop at the top of the stairs, having learned your lesson the hard way yesterday. Wool socks, shorts (not of the sexy pajama variety), and your oversized t-shirt was not the way you wanted to present yourself, but he had given you no warning. 

Your mother and Damiano rounded the corner. Fuck, he looks good. It wasn’t even the outfit, which was the simplest you’d seen. He was glowing somehow, maybe a tan. Plus a couple silver necklaces that brought attention to his shirt, first four buttons undone. Might as well just take it off, and wouldn’t that be a splendid turn of events. 

“So you’re not gonna come down here and greet me,” he teases, radiating confidence to compensate for any animosity on your end. 

“I, um,” you swallow hard, getting an iron grip on the hand rail. After a tentative first step, you consider taking off your socks to prevent slipping. 

“Y/n!” your mother warns, then turns to Damiano. “She fell yesterday. Down the stairs, she got dizzy and –”

“Oh, jesus fucking christ don’t!” He holds his hands out as if to catch you, 11 steps later. Relishing the dissipation of his cockiness, you decide to tease him a bit further.

“Oh no, you’re right! I wouldn’t want to be rude.” You take another step, focusing on correctly judging the distance. The mix of terror and dismay on Damiano’s face is positivly hilarious. 

“No, no, no it’s fine! You don’t have to – I mean, I was just –”

“If my alpha commands it then I must persevere.” Damiano realizes you're joking and rolls his eyes. Unfortunately, a bout of dizziness does wash over you, and in an effort not to wobble you squeeze your eyes closed and hang off the rail by both hands. Your mother inhales sharply, and the floorboards creak as Damiano bounds up the stairs. He holds you steady against him, standing one stair below so he’ll be able to stop your fall. The vetigo passes quickly and, after a couple seconds you feel normal, looking up to find Damiano’s face perfectly level with yours. He recitfies the situation, before sexual tension can even form, stepping up.

“By the time you’re 16 I’m going to be fucking 30 after everything you’ve put me through.” You snicker and he's already smiling, looking away so he doesn’t end up laughing despite himself. “I swear to fucking god, y/n the walking hazard.”

“Damiano, the massive slut.” He turns towards you in absolute shock, mouth agape. He displays theatrical offense which might be at least some parts authentic. Dami’s dramatic reaction has you laughing even harder. “In front of your mother?!” he whisper-yells. 

“You’ve sworn five times in 20 seconds,” you hiss back. “Plus, it's important that my family gets to know you, right?” Dami shakes his head in disbelief. Again, he’s trying not to smile, but his affection is revealed in the way the corners of his mouth turns upwards despite his best efforts. The whole flirtatious interaction is done nearly chest to chest with Damiano holding you firmly. You will your body not to slick up. The hormone suppression was supposed to help with that, but you didn’t trust its efficacy.

“And I am genuinely sorry that I’ve caused you so much stress.” The guilt settles in your throat, right below the origin of tears. Having all your exchanges as light-hearted flirting wasn’t authentic.

“Hush you, my life was boring before. No medical emergencies? No biblical levels of temptation?” You let out a dramatic yawn and Damiano looks skeptical and confused.

“Oh, I was just already getting bored from the description.” Dami rolls his eyes, sighing in mock annoyance. You delight in his humorous exaggerations, but when his gaze returns to yours, there's a hunger that can’t be hidden quick enough.

“C’mon lets get you back to bed,” he sighs. You suggestively wiggle your eyebrows as he guides you up the stairs and he pretends very poorly not to find it funny.  “With the door open!” he exclaims. Damiano turns to see your mothers approval, but she’s already made herself scarce. 

Thalia is standing in the hallway, just outside her door, observing. She doesn’t offer to help, probably preferring to watch documentary clips about ancient cave temples. So really, you appreciate the gesture of watching you make it back to your room.

“Dami, this is my sister Thalia, she’s 17 too, but she goes to Emerson.”

“Oh, congratulations! That’s really impressive, my general practitioner actually went to high school there.” You miss his hands on you, even if just to keep you from becoming concussed.

“Thank you.” She gives a single nod, then looks at you for an out. 

“I should really sit down in case I get dizzy again.” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” By the time you and Damiano have taken two steps over the threshold, Thalia has closed her bedroom door behind her. You sit in the middle of the bed, cross-legged. 

“Was she mad at me?” Dami seems mystified. You forget that your older sister isn’t easily readable to those outside your family.

“No, I think she really liked you! She just hates obligatory conversations and talking to new people.”

“Huh, well that's understandable. I’m not the social butterfly I seem either. Or the, how did you phrase it so eloquently in front of your mother of all people, ‘massive slut?’” 

“Oh, no?” you giggle, taking the bait. 

“No! I admit…there was a stage when I was 16 that uh,” he tilts his head to the side and winces. “Why am I trying to justify myself to you?”

“I don’t know, but it's certainly amusing.”

“Oh, I’m glad I amuse you,” he replies, sarcastically. 

Totally ignoring his tone of voice, you respond, “yeah, me too because I’ve been bored all day. Hey, dance monkey, dance!” Damiano does a little jump and jig that leaves you cackling, then looks baffled as to why he heeded your request. Dami brings a hand to his face, letting out a huff. 

“What the fuck was I talking about?”

“Your 16th year spent balls deep in any willing orifice.”

“Oh my god, no!” He cringes and makes a gagging noise, shaking his head as if it was possible to dislodge the phrase from his memory. “I was a little more selective than that y/n, but yes…basically I had only one mated relationship and I was trying to get more experience while I killed time. Also I was horny and people were available.”

“How romantic,” you guaff.

“I like to see it as guaranteeing my feelings were tried and true.”. Suddenly this conversation is lost on you.

“Wait, what? Why was 16 year old Damiano killing time?”

“Because you were 14.” He’s bashful, shoving his hands in his jean’s pockets, rolling back on his heels and looking at the ground. For a few seconds, you’re unsure of what to say, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. 

“You waited for me to be ready,” you marvel, suppressing the urge to leap off of your bed and onto Damiano. 

“Well…yeah, but I wasn’t sure at first. It was experimental for a while.”

“And then?” you prompt.

“And then I was sure.” He says the words so casually, like this isn’t adjacent to a declaration of sorts. Alpha’s pledging to be an omega’s mate often results in a relationship that at the very least lasts several years. Damiano isn’t doing that, but he was letting you know that he was prepared for that step. He’s also watching your reaction very closely. Do you look freaked out or overwhelmed? His astute gaze flitted from one feature to the next.

“I don’t know what my face is doing, but you’re not going to scare me off with honesty.” You try to sound warm, crawling to the edge of the mattress to embrace. You stop yourself, unsure where Damiano stands when it comes to affectionate touch. He seems determined to stand in the middle of the carpet, and not any closer, out of reach.

“Come ‘ere,” you coax, beckoning him. “It feels weird and impersonal to have this conversation so far apart. I don’t like it.” Damiano steps almost within arms reach, his breath quickening. “You can sit. I’m not gonna do anything without your consent.” If Damiano didn’t know that already you’d made a massive error along the way.

“I just think I should stay standing.”

“Okay…”

“Because of how – because you’re too tempting to me. Like I’m –” he flexes, then clenches his hands into white knuckled fists. “I’m actively reminding myself that I can’t just do anything I want, but even with that thought, like…No matter how much I focus, all I can think about is all the things we could do and most of them require some kind of surface to rest on.” His jaw is set, veins in his neck visible as he swallows hard. Even the muscles in his face are tense.

“So you’re standing up,” you conclude. Deciding to meet him where he’s comfortable, you climb off the bed. Dami’s eyes go wide like he hadn’t thought of this possibility. 

“May I hug you?” It takes him a moment to process, rolling his bottom lip against his teeth.

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he replies softly. Instead of taking a step towards you, he takes two steps back, centering himself on the carpet, then holding his arms out. Apparently this is a safe distance from the bed. You walk into his arms and immediately he bends down and buries his face in your hair. Damiano breathes in like he’s about to dunk underwater, like your smell is what he needs to subsist. The second exhale turns into a rumbling growl of satisfaction that you can feel in his chest. One hand is wrapped around just under your shoulder blades and the other is massaging your scalp. Indisputably, Damiano needed this hug more than you did. He’s calming down, relaxing. 

“God, I get fucking withdrawals. The way that you smell is just,” he exhales in carnal satisfaction, his chest rumbling again in a way that makes your nipples harden and every hair follicle stand up. You squeeze Damiano tight, reassuring yourself of his presence, forehead against his exposed chest. He’s wearing cologne, but his pheromones are overpowering it, as is the musk of body odor and you want to lick him clean.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” Damiano clears his throat roughly. His skin is so hot that it makes you shiver, like the contrast of a warm shower after coming in from a cold day.

“No, I’m still sore.” He starts to loosen the hug, but you squeeze tighter in response. That’s not what I meant.

“Can I tell you about my thoughts these past couple days like this?” You nod enthusiastically, and Dami rests his chin on your scalp. Anything to elongate the physical contact is welcome. He has one hand rubbing up and down your back slowly, and it's more calming than any drug.

“I think that ceasing all physical contact makes us so desperate we can’t function and then we fail anyways. Avoiding each other doesn’t work. So I think that touch in moderation is the only way to stay sane until you’re ready.” 

“I agree.” Damiano pulls away so he can read your facial expressions.

“And this only applies as long as you’re completely comfortable. You can rescind consent at any time.” He was trying so hard to even out the power differential, when really you were on the verge of begging him to take advantage of you.

“And of course vice versa.” It feels like the adult thing to say so you punctuate it with a staunch nod. 

“Sex and kissing is still off the table.” Immediately, you want to argue with the kissing ban, but decide to pick your battles.

“Define sex.” Damiano's eyes widen, then he looks behind him at the open door. “Mind if I close it now?”

“Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders back, standing tall. 

“Is there something off limits to talk about?” You ask, knowing the answer.

“No, of course not. You can ask me anything.” He gingerly turns the knob while shutting your bedroom door.

“Okay…” you climb back on the bed, stealing yourself for this conversation. “So tell me what counts as sex to you, just so we’re clear.”

“Well no knotting or penetration obviously.” He’s getting visibly flustered just talking about it, and you know it's because he’s picturing you. 

“Does fingering count?”

“What – what do you mean? You can do anything you want to, um, to yourself.” 

“I know that,” you dismiss, intent on keeping your cool. “But like, if I was really turned on could I ask you to finger me? Or would that not be okay?” You actually watch in real time as Dami’s brain short circuits. He starts shifting his weight back and forth, fixing his gaze just to the left of you.

“Well, n – not um, uh. It depends.” Even that non-answer seemed almost overwhelming for Damiano, and you know you take too much enjoyment in this. 

“Because if you were ever really pent up, you could ask me for a blow job, just so you know. Would you ever give me oral? Only if you were super into it of course.” He takes a trembling breath and looks up at the ceiling. His hands are flighty, in his pockets, then folded, then resting at his sides like they can’t choose.

“Um, no. No, I don't think so. Not because I’m not – because I really, really want um…huh. I gotta – I’m gonna turn around.” It hard not to giggle over the fact that Dami is so sexual charged that he can’t look at you and talk about intercourse.  

“Okay, so oral counts as sex, but fingering it depends. What about hand jobs? Could I give you a hand job?”

“I don’t, uh, hng –”

“I guess I should say that I give you permission to ask for a handjob if you ever wanted to.” 

“Right, okay, um…” He turns back around, obviously flushed. “I need water. I need – need to uh –”

“Bathroom is across the hall.” Damiano turns mostly away from you and tries to adjust himself subtly. He looks over to find you literally licking your lips, because for a moment the outline was abruptly clear.

“Can you at least attempt to control yourself,” Dami objects. You laze back on the bed, languidly looking him up and down. For a moment, you wonder if this is what it's like to be an alpha. Then Damiano stares at you with a gaze that could burn through the mattress. He has both hands on his hips, cock proud inside his jeans, eyes searing and you remember your place.

“Sorry, I’ll go get us water,” you volunteered, feeling parched yourself.

“No, please just stay here,” he emphasizes, a hand gesturing at you to sit down. “I won’t be able to think of anything else if I’m worried about you falling down the stairs.” His concern has you feeling foolishly warm in your chest until you hear the bathroom door latch. An earnest panic propels you halfway across your room before you get a chance to evaluate it. The gist: I’m right here. I’m here and my alpha is in there with his hand and very active imagination. I’m right here! 

 It was not just about pleasure, his and yours, but the vulnerability at the moment of release. There's an intimacy in watching someone cum, even if you have nothing to do with it. All the little details of their form reveal something beyond the moment if watched closely enough, and you wanted to read Damiano like a map as he shook with pleasure. There's the warm panting of breath against your cheek, the slight sheen of sweat, the perfect balance of relaxation and tension in their face. How hands and toes curl, and the spine arches to reveal every sensation, letting you in on a sacred secret. Because this nakedness that had nothing to do with clothes was sacred. Orgasam unreliable except for being reliably honest. 

However, now Damiano was already across the hall, behind a door, and you hadn’t had the chance to communicate any of this. A desperate plea of: let me close to you. Let me see you. You walked out into the hall, examining how strong your will might be. So often we lose chances because we write off mistakes as impossible to undo. We’re not willing to risk rejection and embarrassment. 

You lean your forehead against the door and tap twice with the pad of your middle finger. It’s poorly made and hollow. Can he smell me? Damiano taps back from inside the bathroom, and you whisper against the doorframe.

“If this is how you desire this moment to be, tap.” There’s silence, and on the other side of the door Damiano is in the same position, breath held. “Then please come back to my room,” you whisper, hoping you’ve caught him in time. The door opens slowly, his eyes scanning the hall. Glancing down to his groin, you can see that Dami’s still hard, and you pull him into your across the hall, closing your door behind you.

“I understand that you want to wait for certain things, but the last people we should be hiding our sexualiy from is eachother.” 

“You’re right. I should have made this a negotiation,” she shakes his head, scowling.

“Hey it’s okay,” you coo, “c’mere.” Damiano lets you pull him onto the bed. You sit back on your heels so he has room to arrange himself. At first, Dami mirrors you. Then he lays down, decides that's not right either, and props himself up on your pillows. He gages your reaction once settled, but you’re just happy to have gotten this far. You work your way up, hands rubbing his shins, then over the knee, lower thigh, and you stop before pushing any rules.

“Will you take your shirt off?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Damiano pulls it over his head and off, revealing his chest. You’re happy to explore that with your hands too, starting by running a hand from waist to neck along the centerline. Your fingertips trace his clavicle, sternum, then your palms caress his pecs. Repeatedly, you run into his necklaces, until Daminao takes both off and sets them on your bedside table. Now your thumbs brush over his nipples as you decide to come back to that. Every freckle is marked by your touch, every line of musculature stroked with care. You had to intentionally appreciate him in pieces, giving each their own moment, or you’d get utterly lost in the glory of his body.

Damiano’s abdomen quivers under your hand, the muscles contracting. When you reach his happy trail, his cock jumps too, and he holds his breath. His regulations that served as a hindrance were now forcing you to appreciate him more fully, so you make a game out of following them. Since kisses weren’t allowed, you kneel between his legs and simply rest your face on his skin, breathing him in, feeling the warmth that radiates from his body. You run your lips down his happy trail to feel the hair tickle, and realize there are so many things a mouth can do besides kissing.

Turning your attention back to his nipples, you position your lips over them, resting your body against his for as much contact as possible. Your hands cradle his ribcage, feeling each shuddering inhale. You suck his left nipple into your mouth gently and Damiano gasps. While increasing the suction in increments, his back rises off the bed and towards you, seeking more sensation. Switching tactics, you bite down lightly, and Dami lets out a moan. You look up to find his face wracked in pleasure, not even attempting to school his expressions. When was the last time someone savored him? Or did they all succumb to the overwhelm of his beauty?

Switching to the right side, you lick harshly, then trace his mauve nipple with the tip of your tongue. He lets out a whine, arching into your mouth, so you rake your teeth across the sensitive bud and feel a hand on the back of your head. Damiano allows himself to groan in pleasure, his pelvis rocking forth in search of pressure. You give him your weight, moving your body with his.

“Y/n, y/n please, just…just,“ he murmurs, hoarse from trying to control his volume. You look down and think about all the possibilities. Using friction you might be able to get him off as is. 

“How may I serve you?” Dami looks burdened with decision making. His nose crunches, as he continues to roll his hips up to meet your abdomen.

“Clothes off,” he commands.You undo his belt buckle and his fly, before he gaffs. “Your clothes, darling.”

“Oh.” You look down at your own unflattering attire, having forgotten about it. Getting your shirt off was the easiest part, so you start with that. As soon as your breasts are exposed, nipples hard, Damiano captures one in his mouth, tweaking the other with his fingers. His mouth is warm, wet, and soft, the sensation going straight to your cunt. It’s immediately apparent that he knows what he’s doing, alternating between caressing with his tongue and sucking. Damiano is surprisingly gentle, no teeth, using just his lips to pull at and release your nipple.

“Touch yourself.” His earlier words appear in your mind. You can do anything you want to yourself. The problem was, getting yourself off took time, an above average amount of time from what you’d deduced. Obeying, you push your right hand into your underwear and find your clit. Damiano starts working a hickey into the soft tissue of your breast, and you try to focus on touching yourself, but end up distracted. Should you fake orgasam in a timely manner? Was Dami expecting you to finish anytime soon?  Could you even get yourself to orgasam with another person watching?

His tongue, now refocused on your nipple, feels better than your own hand rubbing your vulva. You take it as a sigh to recognize the futility of this effort and do something else. Rescinding your hand from your pants, you return your focus to Damiano's state of dress, getting his trousers undone.

“I want to get you off first,” you justify. “Can I?” He nods, leaving goodbye kisses in the valley of your breasts. He lays back and helps you take off his bottoms and boxers. Damiano has the cock you’d expect from an alpha: sturdy, sizable, well-performing. He was rock hard, shaft not quite resting on his stomach. What you were perhaps more interested in, was his external scent glands. He hadn’t given you permission to suck his cock, but there were many other places to put your mouth. 

Your hands parted his legs, and you propped yourself up in between. The wave of pheromones from his totally exposed glands made you feel inebriated for a moment. This was the first time you’d been this close to a matured alpha’s glands. They looked like you expected: two small swells, almost shaped like an unripe grape, just inside the crook of his thigh. There was a slit, similar to the gill of a fish, that allowed scents to be released. 

“This is your first time seeing an alpha’s glands in person isn’t it?” Damiano asked, surprisingly confident for being in this vulnerable position. 

“Mhm,” you confirmed, licking over the glands, which rested just below the testes. Your tongue continued to the root of Damiano’s cock. He hissed with sensitivity. Unsure if it was positive, you gave the other side the same treatment, this time a bit gentler. 

“They’re really sensitive, baby, be careful,” Damiano warned. Instead of larger motions, you used the tip of your tongue to lightly trace the opening of each gland. Your touch was barely even there, but that seemed to be plenty of stimulation as Dami’s thighs clamped down around your head. You sensed movement above you as he started working his own cock. Taking this is a good sign, you continued your ministrations on the other side.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” he groaned, shifting his pelvis. You shook your head between his legs, and took his balls into your mouth, one at a time. Each time you sucked on the soft, sensitive skin, you caressed the round shape of his testicle with your tongue. Damiano cursed and his unoccupied hand moved to your hair. It was almost preferable this way, you didn’t have to attempt to memorize and maintain the perfect rhythm for Dami. He did this for himself, allowing you to explore. 

Wondering if his prostate was in the same place, you pressed a thumb between his scent glands, right underneath his sack, searching for that sweet spot. This was the special move you’d perfected over the last year since you’d lost your virginity. Older girls at school were gossiping about it, so you’d found yourself a diagram and a partner to test things out. If you managed to stimulate someone’s prostate externally, it was always obvious. Their legs would cramp down and spasm, fighting to maintain contact. It took considerably longer with Damiano, but you managed to locate his p-spot, and he nearly kneed you in the face. 

“What the – what!? Oh my god,” he moaned. You kept pressure with your thumb while also returning to flicking his scent glands with your tongue. Who knew how much could be achieved on the male form without the gift of suction or friction. Damiano started to arch, not just up, but into you. His hand began working frantically, and you devoted yourself to continuing exactly what you’d been doing. Consistency was key and he yanked his cock ruthlessly. You could tell Damiano was near the edge by the tension in his body, by the way his moans climbed in pitch. The moment before release he was whining in a way you never imagine an alpha could, sounding just as desperate as any man, no hint of bravado. 

Damiano came down the otherside rocking his groin against your face, milking his shaft to release rope after rope of cum. He looked down at himself, so focused, yet eyes always fluttering or even rolling back in his head. When the spunk no longer streamed from his dick, Dami still pulled at his member ruthlessly, until the sensation made him shiver in overstimulation. Only then did he let his exhausted cock rest. Getting the sense that he was done,, you sat up on your heels instead of crouching between his legs. 

Damiano was flushed, sweaty, and panting. You rubbed his flank as he came back into his body, more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. It made you wonder how many times this is what he had craved around you, and how often he refused that urge. On so many occasions, he must have been painfully pent-up, nearly bursting from the efforts of self control. Dami could have just asked. If your lips between his legs was all that he required to orgasam, it was a small request indeed.

“You didn’t even try to finish,” he observed. You felt self-conscious, looking down at your body, unsure what to say.

“It just takes me a long time, so I’ve never tried doing it in front of someone else.” 

“Huh.” He sounded genuinely intrigued, his eyes scanning your form, much more discerning than you’d like. Dami had probably been with other girls that could masturbate to completion for him. The situation left you jealous of the capabilities of people you’d never met.

Or perhaps you had met them, considering how Damiano got around. In fact, you had no idea who he’d slept with, but undoubtedly you’d interacted with a few of them in total ignorance. Had they known who you were? Did they think you were a fool?

“Why did you focus on your clit?”

“What?” This wasn’t a line of questioning you’d expected.

“I mean, if it takes you a long time to cum, why waste you time on your clit? Why didn’t you finger your scent glands?” Without meaning to, you release an exasperated sigh. Omega scent glands were internal, and highly sensitive. They were responsible for the production of slick. Unfortunately, you struggled to find yours, the same way beta’s struggled to find their clit. 

“They’re really high up or something. I can never find them.” Dami looked vexed by this answer and you wanted to snap at him. As a sexually liberated alpha you were just bracing for the lecture about failing to embrace your sexuality. If you just embraced it, masturabating would be easy. In essence, you were holding yourself back. This messaging was blasted at you from a culture so sex positive it became toxic. 

“I could show you.” His eyes were careful, but his face devoid of judgment. “I understand if that’s more sexual contact than you’re comfortable with, of course.” You made a face, nose scrunched as you weighed your options. “What are you thinking?” he prompted.

“Well…” You let out an exasperated huff. “I’m pretty sure they’re not in a normal place so what if you figure that out and don’t want me because I’m deformed.” Damiano had one eyebrow cocked, smiling in amusement. 

“What!?” He threw his hands up in concession.

“Your slick production is normal, your hormones are normal, so anything wrong with your glands is only going to bother you. So unless they have teeth, I’m really not worried.” You sigh, nodding. It's humorous how serious the conversation has become before the jizz on Dami’s chest has even cooled. 

“Okay, so should I just…?”

“Lay on your back,” he instructed, pulling his boxers back on. You’re of half a mind to complain about his state of partial dress. Stacking a couple pillows on top of eachother, you rest on the bed, feeling a weird combination of naked and covered with your breasts fully exposed, but also still wearing wool socks. Dami pulls his pants back on, looking way more sexy than he has the right to. You let out a groan of complaint, and he gives you a full, shining smile.

“I think it's best if only one of us has our underwear off at a time.” The view of his canines reminds you of last week, or was it a lifetime ago? When he’d come to your defense, in full alpha headspace, but you felt unafraid. Gia’s older sister had said that one of the most offputting things about sex with alphas is the shift in appearence. The teeth, the darkened eyes, muscles flexing, but you’d been unbothered. 

“Why didn’t you change, just now?”

“I, um –” he clears his throat, crawling towards you. “Well, I tried not to. I know it can be, um…when I’m able to, I try to avoid it.” He’s shy about something, not meeting your eyes.

“What?”

“It’s uh…” he sighs and looks out the window. “I really freaked someone out once, when I had just turned 15. I guess they thought that, like, that, it was a myth, a scary story.” He finally meets your eyes, wincing.

“Oh, no. It was bad? Screaming, crying, running, the whole horror show?” Beta’s had a tendency for treating alphas and omegas like fantastical creatures, with the myths and legends to match.

“Yeah,” he lets out a huff, turning to face you. “And when his parents came to see what was wrong, I was still…”

“Exposed?” 

“Mhm, it was horrendous.” He flops down next to you, and the intimacy of laying on your bed together makes you feel warm, even if you’re talking about a former hookup. Damiano leans his head against yours.

“Sounds traumatizing for both of you.” He nods, and laces your hands together. So this is what people mean when they talk about butterflies.

You forget how little empathy and softness is allotted to male alphas. Just treating Damiano like a person built rapport. He lifts your hands up where you can see them, lacing and unlacing, like a flower blooming. Every brush of skin is a rush, and you finally understood Dami’s reasoning. Sure, you could very well hurry from meeting to knotting, but he wanted time for these moments, when holding someone’s hand feels a little forbidden and so exciting. If someone’s knotted you, there’s no thrill from lining your palms up exactly. 

“Must have been hard, everyone having sympathy for him, but not you, even though someone treated you like a monster in the middle of sex for something your couldn’t help.” 

“You know, I never thought of it like that.” He turns onto his side, and you do the same, almost kissing. It's wonderfully humanizing to observe flaws in Damiano. He hasn’t plucked his eyebrows and his patchy stubble is starting to show. He had a freckle in the hollow of his cheek that you can barely see and two blemishes near his cupid’s bow.

“You’re very symmetrical,” you whisper, brushing a curl that had fallen in front of his eye. His hair is long, just past his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and there’s a hint of adoration in his expression which completely throws you off guard.

“Well, you get called hot all the time, so I have to use some originality.”

“You know, actually I don’t. My mom’s friends are big fans, though.” There's no ego, it's an honest response. He’s not performing. You hadn't realized how much intention Damiano put into presenting himself, until he wasn’t allocating any energy to the task. His skin is soft, but the softness went beyond that. His expression was careful, his face relaxed, and his smile modest. Perhaps that softness had more to do with what wasn’t there: a system of defense. His hold to maintain control was so tight, but now that you’d helped him cum, he could decompress. You realize you've never seen him not battling impulses.

“Hi there.” Reintroducing yourself in a hushed tone only feels appropriate. You rub your nose against his, so close you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Hey,” he responds, eyes focused on your lips. Knowing you’re about to get completely lost, you fight to remember the point that felt so important to make.

“I’m not, I don’t mind,” you sigh. Damiano shifts his eyes back up, curious. “The change, I don’t mind. I’ve already seen it, it doesn't scare me.”

“It’s not a big thing,” he assures, analyzing your expression closely.

“I just hate the idea of you holding anything back,” you justify and Dami stops breathing. “Even if it’s possible to do, I want to see you change if that's what comes naturally. You waste your energy maintaining control when that's never been what I want or need.” You’re halfway through letting out a breath when you find yourself flipped on your back, with Damiano crouching over you. He rests on one knee, which he’s using to apply pressure to your groin. It leaves you squirming, unsure if you’re allowed to grind down on it. 

“Did I say something –”

“You didn’t say anything wrong,” he purrs, and lowers himself, licking up the valley of your breasts. He gets a forearm under the small of your back then nips at your stomach, lifting your body up to meet him. He knows you’ve never been bit before, and you’re both aware that your stomach is the most sensitive part of the body. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and look at the ceiling, waiting for whatever he chooses. 

The apprehension is excruciating, but the brush of his neck while scenting you is a sweet resolution. All those subsequent happy chemicals start to blur the edges of your vision, so you jump when his lips finally return to your body, delivering a sweet kiss. You’re about to compliment him for being gentle when he begins sucking a hickey into your left breast, just under the existing one. That spot is going to be sore tomorrow. The arm under your back forces you to endure this as well, as does his tongue which licks all the low places on your chest where sweat might collect. Eyes closed, your body curves into every touch. He’s painful one moment and soothing the next. You end up debating whether to fight omega headspace, or let yourself slip away under the attention of an alpha.

“Y/n,” he summons your attention. It takes you a moment to focus, but clear vision isn’t needed to observe his eyes which have turned charcoal black. He looks up from your body, without words saying “this is who I am. I’m taking the risk of showing you.” Damiano doesn’t even bother to hide the insecurity behind alphaism. The sight of anyone bearing these characteristics should make you cower with fear, but Dami is your alpha, and you have never been afraid. 

“You are magnificent.” Your index finger traces the bridge of his nose, booping the tip affectionately. He seems to accept this, relaxing his mouth so his top lip isn’t covering his canines. Alpha teeth look sharper in person than you expected, but given their purpose is to pierce through flesh, it makes sense.

Testing you, he rises up to your neck, breathing in deep, letting out a rumbling that borders on a growl. He snaps his teeth near your ear, implying a threat to mark you. However, you know that Dami would never do such a thing without asking, so the threat is empty. 

“I’m not afraid of you.” You cup his cheeks in both hands, noticing that his dark lashes are the perfect framing for his new features. He must see this affection in your eyes, and for a very brief moment, Damiano looks like he might cry. Instead, he relaxes against you, resting some of his weight on your form, pressing your foreheads together. It's so intimate that with anyone else you’d close your eyes, but Dami doesn’t, so you don’t either. 

“I see you.”

“I see you,” he nods. For now, those sentences mean drastically different things. You join in, and the act of nodding with your foreheads pressed together is so silly looking that he smiles, and takes a deep breath. 

“How much experience do you have with omega headspace?”

“Nothing substantial.” Damiano holds himself up on one elbow, propping his head in his hand. Its comforting to have the weight of his body resting on you, so warm you’re beginning to perspire.

“I know you’ve never been with an alpha before, but you can explore it on your own, no?”

“Have you ever realized that you overslept for something important while you were still dreaming? And you wake up in this disorienting panic?”

“Christ, that's how it feels?” His eyes switch back to hazel in the span of one blink.

“When there's no one to give control to, yeah. So you can’t ever truly let go, but some for people it's still worth it. Not me, I like control.”

“Yeah I know,” he murmurs, brushing hair away from your face as you had his. You’d forgotten how nice it was to have your hair played with and you let out a sigh. Closing your eyes now won’t be perceived as rejection, so you do, turning your head towards his hand. It's the first time Damiano has seen you totally relaxed, and you look angelic. It's a reminder of your inexperience, and he immediately questions his choice to guide and educate, rather than preserve certain parts of your innocence. However, the fact that you trust him this deeply, having seen exactly who he is, leaves Damiano without the choice to walk away. He’s hooked.

For the first couple minutes, Damiano stroking your head is wonderful, but it causes other parts of your body to demand attention with distracting insistence. You have to resist squirming underneath his touch. You want to seek out more pressure, stimulation, or just something. Because you’ve never had this much physical contact with him before, and its awakening desires you couldn’t put a name to. Despite the hormone suppressants, your body is reacting to his pheromones and musculature, revealed by his bare chest. 

Out of curiosity, you open your eyes, unsure if you’ll find hazel of midnight black. It’s the latter and his brow is furrowed in thought. The tips of his canine teeth press into his plush lower lip. You’re too hot, not like the radiant heat of a fire, but like a fever. 

“You’re not relaxed,” he observes, and only then are you aware of your breathing.

“Oh,” you gasp, trying to calm your rapid oxygen intake. “Yeah, I’m really warm.” You fan yourself and Damiano turns his head, face scrupulous. 

“All of your muscles are tense.” He’s observing you with the kind of objectivity that's insulting. It reminds you of him rattling off your symptoms a couple days ago. You didn’t want Damiano to be capable of being impersonable. You wanted to affect him to the point that it made his life difficult, because that's what he did to you.  

“Did I pull your hair?”

“Huh?”

“Or am I too heavy?” He starts adjusting and as a result his locks brush against your nipples. You grimace in an effort not to make a noise. However, his knee is wedged between your legs again and you can’t help the pitiful sound that escapes. Nor can you help the impulse to grind down as hard as you can, regardless of what's permitted. He smirks, and the realization that Dami knew what he was doing all along has you swiping at his shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” he protests, eyeing switching back to hazel as he giggles.

“Mean!” you proclaim, getting a hold of a pillow and hitting him upside the head. “Rude, very rude!” You flip onto your side, pouting, with your arms crossed.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he croons, laying behind you. Dami presses his face to your scalp and takes a deep, self indulgent breath. He rolls his hips up so he’s spooning you, cock half-mast. Damiano’s entirely bare chest is pressed to your entirely bare back, creating a position you could likely masturabate to completion in. You’re wracked by a full body shudder as he scoots infinitesimally closer to you. Now this is intimate. 

Birth control and suppressants are not enough to overpower your biological reaction to this much skin to skin contact with an alpha. Your heart rate starts to speed up and laying still feels impossible, even though you’d rather die than move from this exact spot. The kinetic energy building in your pelvis had you on the verge of screaming, or combusting. All you could do was rub your thighs together desperately while Damiano took his sweet ass time savoring your presence.

“This is really nice,” he whispers into your ear, voice husky. Suddenly the realization hits that he got to cum and you haven't. You take the hand that rests on your side and pull it onto your stomach, slowly sliding down. The hand directing his shook with anticipation, as Dami showed no signs of objecting.

“Please touch me,” you begged as you pushed his hand into your underwear.  There's no point in maintaining your pride, when you’d far rather have the ability to plead. He slides his right hand between your legs, cupping your vulva. You sort of can’t believe he’s touching you here. Maybe it's the pheromones that make it feel like a transcendent experience. His hand is sure, providing pressure and warmth, slick dripping between his fingers. You roll your pelvis against him, prompting Dami to move, but he doesn’t. You cannot be held responsible for any desperate whining that occurred in protest. Why won’t he do anything?

“I’m taking off your shorts and underwear” he narrates in your ear. You like that he doesn’t ask. It's better that he didn’t ask. Wiggling out of the remainder of your clothes isn’t as dignified as you’d like it to be. Using your left foot, you fling them off the end of the bed. Immediately you open your legs and Damiano slides his hand in between. The lack of fabric lets you pin his hand there, by squeezing your thighs shut. He allows you to enjoy the presence and warmth from your clit to your opening. Taking liberties, you grind harshly against his hand, holding it in place by his wrist. Hearing no protest you try rubbing your thighs together again. Having something between them this time was so satisfying that you start rutting into his palm, and don’t police the moans that come forth.The slick dripping from your cunt starts to make the soft tissue at the largest part of your thigh stick together.

“Let me know when your done treating my hand like a sex toy,” Dami whispers, smile audible. You feel yourself flush with embarrassment so hard that it aches in your chest. Looking up at him, he eyes are still somehow kind, despite being void of color.

“Sorry,” you squeak, stilling. 

“Don’t apologize,” he purrs directly into your ear. Each approving hum is punctuated by his tongue swiping at the extremely sensitive follicles in your ear canal. You relax your legs and Dami stretches out his hand. Immediately, you’re a little bit horrified for being in such a horny frenzy that you nearly dislocated his fingers. This is offset by his good natured chuckle against your cheek. This gives you courage.

“Will you take your jeans off?”

“I – um, I”

“For the skin contact,” you clarify. He nods behind you, rescinding his hand and rolling onto his back. The vein on his forehands stands out as he lifts his hips to remove them. Once his pants are shed, also thrown off the side of the mattress, Dami puts his attention to other matters. He readjusts his hard cock, tucking the head under the waistband of his boxers, to minimize the sensation of being stabbed in the back. Then he flips back over to embrace you, and presses your bodies together in every way possible. One leg rests between yours, parting your thighs. It's such a rush that you make a sound like the wind being knocked out of you. In that moment, Damiano could have started with three fingers and you’d take them happily. You’re sweating, pussy dripping, but he didn't make you wait. Damianos pushes one finger inside to the hilt.

“More, more,” you beg, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. He inserts a second digit and has to clamp a hand over your mouth.

“Uhh, uh, oh my god.”

“Shh,” he quieted. You didn’t care. You really didn’t care how loud you were, not even slightly, not even enough to be decent. You were entirely indecent as Damiano pushed two fingers inside, deep enough to brush your scent glands. Your hips bucked against his palm, then missed the contact of his body so you glued against Damiano’s form where he lay behind you. 

“And those are your scent glands.” His mouth was parted in focus, displaying his teeth, whose shape only made your cunt throb. His gaze was directed down to his hand, hair falling in front of his face and tickling your shoulder. Despite the change, Damiano’s expression was so clearly that of careful concentration. His eyes flitted back up to check on you, and found himself being admired. He grinned and you could see the vein on his temple, the flex of his jaw. Perfectly collected Dami, in his element, was not collected at all, but he was free. 

His embrace was steady and consistent, every other touch left you shaking. Once you realized that Damiano was keeping his hand over your mouth, you stopped worrying and let yourself slip into sensation, letting out whatever cries of pleasure were prompted. You were floating in your own head, so thankful for being spooned by your alpha, because otherwise there would be no anchor. 

“More, please. Please, more, please. Dami please!”

“Shh, breath. You’re okay, y/n.” His contact with your scent glands became more substantial, which was impressive considering he was doing this completely blind. The sensation was like a bolt of electricity to the core of your pelvis. It hurt, or rather it contained the idea of pain which was totally overpowered by the sensation of crippling pleasure. Maybe it was all an expression of intensity. Maybe you were so lost in this soul deep satiation that you were trying to make sense of the nonsensical. 

You kicked Damiano in the shin bone as your body tried to externalize some of this unmanageable sensation. Your grip on the bedding ripped the fitted sheet up.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Dami reminded you. However, you knew you were okay and what could possibly suggest otherwise when you were experiencing more pleasure than you had in your entire life.

“You’re so beautiful like this, I wish you could see yourself,” he admired.

“More, more,” you demanded through gritted teeth.

“You might not be ready for three. Baby, take a breath.” You tried to inhale, but it got caught in your throat as Damaino managed to find a new place inside you that had never been touched. Accidentally, you bit down on his hand. It wasn’t a thought out impulse, just the first thing that came to mind. You didn’t make the connection to where the urge came from in time to stop it. 

He wasn’t cruel. Damiano wouldn’t penalize you within a couple minutes of an orgasam you’d obviously needed more than he’d understood. He could appreciate that this was his own failing to an extent. Instead Dami put his fingers into your mouth, and sucking on his pointer and middle finger seemed to render you content.

Biting Dami’s hand then sucking on his digits caused you to sink into a new head space that was deeply primal. You couldn’t have opened your eyes if you wanted to. You felt like his pup, a position of total submission. You didn’t need sight, nor taste and smell. All you needed to be Damiano’s pup was the ability to feel and hear his directions, and then obey.

“Three, three, three, three,” you chanted.

“Baby, I don’t want to tear your hymen or hurt you or –”

“Three, three. Please, three.” Your voice was wracked with tears. The urge to cry was inexplicable, there was nothing to prompt such a reaction. Yet there you were, fears falling from your eyes to his hand that you suckled like a pup. He let out a sigh and gave you three. 

Damiano had been right, it was too much. This was a bad position to take three fingers, so you opened your hips more by hooking your heel over his thigh. Still, it stung. Where there should have been whines of discomfort, out come sounds of deranged pleasure. Tears fell from your eyes and Damiano had to apply some force to get to the last knuckle. It was too much, you felt too full, and maybe that's why you’d craved it in the first place. Maybe you’d known this was more than your body could take, and you’d done so anyway to appease some convoluted desire that you didn’t understand. 

“I can’t knot you, I’m sorry.” That was the name of the yearning: a knot. So easily you’d been reduced to your biology, but instead of fear, you felt freedom. Damiano interprets your tears as pain, which they may will be. You had no idea what was going on, only that sucking on Dami’s fingers brought you comfort. 

He switches back to a single digit and adjusts so every inch of him is pressed against every inch of you. He uses that one digit to stimulate your scent glands at a pace that brings you to orgasam. You almost yelped in surprise when a rush of slick wetted your and Damiano’s thighs. It seemed that sensation was building and building, until you arrived at a peak so suddenly that you were surprised to find yourself free falling into climax. Dami didn’t abandon you. He remained cupped over your vulva just as you had positioned it, holding you close. The fingers on his other hand, still in your mouth. As self awareness returned you startled, feeling unable to open your eyes. Damiano felt you wince and started soothing you with his words.

“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere. This is normal.” His thumb whipped the tears you hadn’t realized were falling and the hand that had been between your legs moved to rub your tummy. He started humming in your ear, melodies that sounded vaguely familiar bleeding into one another. It felt like a mediation until you, a grown ass woman, realized she had someone’s hand in her mouth. 

“And you’re back,” he chuckled as you spit out his fingers and cringe in disgust. 

“Ew, what the fuck?” You rough wiped at the tears on your cheeks, then the drool around your mouth. “What the fuck?” you repeated, this time more hysterical.

“How do you feel? I didn’t mean for you to slip into headspace. It's never happened like this before.” You know Dami doesn’t mean any offense, but it still makes you self conscious. “I would have prepared you, I’m sorry.”

“I mean I’m…fine.” You turn onto your back while he observes you closely. Your eyes are drawn downward, to the wet spot at the top of Dami’s boxers. He follows your gaze, bashfully.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, um…it’s just – it’s just if you had seen yourself. Like, holy shit, but I know –”

“It’s actually kind of affirming, Dami, don't worry about it.” You gesture to the tissue box, which he uses to clean two ejacutions worth of jizz off his chest. Your brain begins to process the last however long.

“Oh my god I…I – why?”

“You didn’t do anything strange, don’t worry,” he calms. “I’ve just never seen someone slip into omegan headspace like that before.” Upon observing your expressions, Damiano immediately backpedals. “And that's not a bad thing! There's just always been some barriers, but you’re not put off by the change, so…” He trails off, beaming. How anyone could find this terrifying after knowing Dami is beyond you. His expression was full of so much sweetness and vulnerability. Your chest swells with the knowledge that you’ve validated him or your dynamic, in some way.

  “Is my…like am I still –”

“Vampire Damiano? Yes you are. I thought you could feel the change.” His behavior had suggested as much.

“I can, it’s just…your face,” he grins.

“What's wrong with my face?” you demand, purposefully indignant.

“Nothing! Nothing! I like your face. I’m just not used to this reaction. It's a nice surprise. It’s really really nice.” After everything, this somehow makes you blush, but you can’t resist the urge to tease him a little bit.

“So that thing you said about wanting me to date other people in the meantime so I could be sure.” Damiano lets out a snarl, but it's playful and nothing else. He starts poking at your sides, testing if you’re ticklish. Once he gets you laughing, Dami pins you to the bed with his weight.

“Mine,” he growls in your ear. “Mine. Mine. Mine!”

Notes: Depressive mood swing over, fan fiction up! Any spacing issues are due to Tumblr barely letting me upload this due to its size. As always I live for external validation and thanks for reading (and waiting)!

taglist: @asianhawkeye @biancathecool @bieberhoodforever @blackberryblossom @bohemianrainbow @boyswillbeexecutied @butkutee @ch3rryk4ii @cuzimitaliano @damoriaa @daisy0gf @donuts247usa @elvirabelle @ethaneskin @gr8rainbowpunk @hiraetheral @homesicam @iamtashaquinn @idyllicbutterfly @immrbrightsideeee @iosonoarina @ilwiwbysmv @katyldamusic @l0standn0tf0und @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @minnietmouse @obiw4n @ohdamiano @que--sera--sera @teacosea @teenyweenynightghost @thatonebraziliangirl @thegeminisgirl @theimpossiblehologramtree @solacestyles @stardustingold @superchrystaldrug @wasteddoubts @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia @woahzz11 @xweirdxsceletton @dustyinkpages @the-chaotic-cow

[awkwardspontaneity]

Hello. This is my first request for the Legend of Zelda, so I do not know how to write it correctly. I don't speak English and I'm writing this in a translator, so there may be mistakes here, sorry. In general, I want to see how the reader will react to the fact that Revali, Link and Sidon cheated on her. (something made me feel sad) Thank you in advance ╹▽╹

I'm so sorry something happened to upset you. If it's along the lines of this request give me a name😤👊 anyways thank you so much for requesting!! This ended up being so much longer than I intended but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope this is what you're looking for!

✨ requests are open✨

Warning: angst, cheating

Revali🐦

I think with his prickly nature not a lot of people would stick around long enough to get to know how much he cares

But some bitch saw how much he was training to perfect his powers to help Hyrule and couldn't resist

It started off as bringing him lunches and heat pads after a long day of training and then it escalated

They would wrap his wings up and suddenly he was letting them fix his braids. He never saw it as much more than a fan helping him out but you saw differently

It ended up in a big fight when you finally brought up how Revali was allowing this fan to hang off of him like they were his partner not you. You brought up excellent points like how he took such a long time to even trust you with braiding his hair and that he could at least let them know he's in a relationship.

Revali got upset (probably cuz ur right and he can't admit it) and snapped that at least they appreciated him

Yeah bad move. You walked out and bird brain left to train away the pain

You came across his first and decided to head to the shooting range with some peace snacks but what do you find?

You walk up the slope towards the archery range, a container of Revali's favourite snacks in hand. As you approach you see something sitting inside the hut and assume it's him. Sterling your breath you walk into the hut and what you find takes your breath away- not in the good way either. Revali sat there with his wings wrapped around them, too caught up on their liplock to notice you standing there.

CRASH

The container hits the ground with a shatter, ruining their little scene.

"Y/n-"

"Don't even try it." You wish your voice didn't sound as broken. No matter how much your heart squeezed in pain from the betrayal, you wanted to come off so much different- angrier. Because you were angry. "Just because we have an argument does not give you the right to run off with your new friend."

Revali flinches at the word and you feel a sick glimmer of satisfaction. He opens his mouth to protest, ignoring your glare. "I-I'm sorry." Your glare darkens and he immediately flounders for the right words. "You accused me of something I didn't do-"

Yeah, not the right words. You wish you could do something, anything to hurt him like he hurt you. But you had to be the bigger person no matter how much you wanted to snap that precious bow of his in half.

"I accused you, not have you permission."

"We can work through this, together" his wing reached out to you, but you recoiled to fast.

"We're not together." You walked towards the entrance "I hope it was worth it."

Link 🗡️

Link is a closed off person. Sure he has people worship him for his title as the hero of Hyrule, but he would never let that get to his head. You could tell this boy he's amazing and it still wouldn't get through his insecurities

Maybe it's cruel but, that almost reassured you he would never break your heart like that. You felt secure in your relationship

That's why it was so shocking when you found out he had fallen for Zelda.

It wasn't meant to ever be more than knight and princess. And you never should have found out.

You were walking towards the stables of your party was staying at. It was supposed to be a simple trip to complete some research out in the plains. Of course your trip was ambushed by an energetic princess who begged to come along for research purposes. You couldn't complain because the addition of the princess also came with your boyfriend Link.

Now you were looking for him outside the small ranch. You fully expected him to be caring for Epona like he always did after a long trip. His love for his horse was something you had always loved about him. The way he would stay later than everyone else to make sure she was okay. It had made stables kind of your spot. Hanging out at the end of a long day to talk and spend time together while caring for your steeds.

Maybe that was why your heart felt so utterly shattered when you did find him, standing next to the stable, with the princess in his arms. Maybe you could have fooled yourself into believing he was being friendly if he hadn't pressed a long loving kiss to her forehead followed by both her cheeks, chuckling softly as she giggled.

You knew they had always been close. I mean they spent all their time together. You'd just never thought that Link would do something like this to you.

You walked away from the stables fighting backs the tears in your eyes. It was only when you found you had walked into an older area, a spare shack outside, that you finally let the tears fall. Your heart twisted in pain as sobs tore from your throat.

Why hasn't you seen this? Why weren't you enough?

------

Your research trip was almost over. You had gone back late into the night to find Link on the edge of his bed head in his hands. He had shot up to demand where you had been when you finally walked in and although he looked like he wanted to argue, he accepted that you had been organizing your research supplies and notes in quiet.

That had been 3 days ago. You had spent the research trip sticking close to your colleagues, poring over each plant and testing their uses. The princess was too distracted with her own interests to really notice how you shied away from her presence. Link had though. And he was about done with you brushing him off in favour of your work. You both were busy so not having time was nothing new. But this was different. You couldn't meet his eyes and he had caught you staring at him and Zelda as if you were about to cry before. He was at a loss and now he needed to figure things out for himself.

However he wasn't quite ready for the answer.

"I saw you and Zelda together."

His throat closed up. He wanted to say so many things. How sorry he was. How he wished he could have told you himself. How he wished he could hold you and forget how complicated things were.

"it's okay." Now that, he wasn't expecting. "I thought I could be mad at you. Both of you. But I guess... It just makes sense." You sniffled softly. You really didn't want to do this. You hated that it had to be you who gave up. But we're you really going to fight? No. As much as it tore your heart into pieces, you would stand aside for them. "I wish that things hadn't changed but, clearly you don't feel the same anymore and I don't want to hold you back. I love you. So much. But I don't deserve this, and I won't put either of us through the trouble. I hope you two are happy together Link."

As you walked towards your friends to head home Link felt his heart clench. You deserved so much better.

Sidon🦈

You were a princess from another kingdom, betrothed to Prince Sidon of the Zora. We all know how these things go, neither of you were all that fond of the idea but you would go through with it. For your kingdoms

You tried to be as understanding as possible of the situations, knowing that the prince was just as trapped as you were. So you played along with your parents wishes.

You two went on dates and spent time together, getting closer and closer until finally you kissed him.

Things were great. You were planning your wedding and enjoying the time you spent with your fiance as you prepared for your future

It wasn't until a few days before the wedding when you were trying on your dress that things fell apart.

Your dressmaker had been in a bad mood, grumbling as they worked and even sticking you with needles a few times. You would have brushed it off as a bad day if not for the facts that they seemed so unapologetic.

You finally brought it up, softly asking if there was something wrong and if you could help. They snapped, going off about how you were ruining the princes life and that he didn't love you and was only marrying you for his kingdom and that he deserved to be happy.

They realized their mistake and left quickly, leaving you alone in your wedding dress with shocked tears slipping down your face.

You later made you way to Sidons office, hoping to clear some things up and maybe seek comfort from the one you loved.

What you didn't expect was to find him already comforting someone. Your dressmaker.

You watched as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to them. It was when he said no matter what they were the one that he loved when you broke away.

You stood in your room, packed bags beside you. You knew there were better ways to deal with this. You knew that your kingdom was counting on you and thus marriage. You just couldn't go through with it. Not anymore.

"Y/n?"

You sound around to find the Zora princess standing in your doorway. Mipha had become a close friend in your time in the Zora domain, even feeling like family as you worked closely planning the wedding. She had once told you that you were everything she could hope for in a sister and wife for her brother. You guessed it didn't matter in the end.

Finally you choked out pained words "I can't... I just... I can't do this anymore."

"If you are feeling nervous, I can assure you my brother would never hurt you."

This made you laugh. It was cold, similar to the ice creeping into your veins. "He would. And he did." You cut off Mipha's confusion, wringing a hand through your hair, "Sidon is in love with someone else. I made every effort to work through this engagement despite our... rocky beginning. But he didn't choose me back. He never wanted me, and I won't ruin his chance to be happy."

The room was silent after your outburst. You only noticed the tears when your friend wiped them from your eyes. She offered you a small smile, sharing the pain you felt. She was losing you and still understood it was best for you. You needed to move on and save yourself from a life of pain. A life of being chosen second.

"I hope one day we can meet again, sister."

You let out a choked mix of a son and laugh. Hugging the princess before you grabbed your bags and walked out the door, out of the kingdom that stole your heart and crushed it in its hands.

"I love you, always."

[midava]

Diluc x reader - Small suprise

Diluc and you have today anniversary. Two years togheter. It was a normal day. Poeople in Tvaren. Pouring wine, cleaning glasses. Last visiters just made their ways to home. Tavern closed. Only you and Diluc.

You had something for him, but you leaved at home for later, when the two of you get home. Diluc cleaned last glass: ,,We can go," you smiled and nod. As always, while holding yours hands you walk home to the winery. But Diluc turned in opposite way before last turn.

You give him confused look when you wanted to argue he smiled calmly: ,,Please, just give me a minute," you look in his eyes. Something was behind them. Some seecret. Maybe thats why he had all day good mood.

Diluc walk with you in near forest. You look around... You saw a place with little blue lights... Lamp grass. His favourite flower and yours as well. Diluc and you get more closer and closer.

Now you see it corectly... Circle made of Lamp grassi in middle blancket with basket. Your eyes were full of joy tears. You didn´t expect this suprise of his. He se brushed off your tears from your cheeks when he sat down on a blacket with you.

,,Please, enjoy this," he whispered to make you stop cry. You look so adorable when you cry from joy. But that wasn´t all he planed.

He took something from the basket. It was bottle of wine... luxury one. He keeps these in his celler for celebrations. He took to glaases as well. ,,Diluc, you don´t drink wine,".He smiled at your comment: ,,Just for this time,"

He poured wine into glasses. He gace you one and he hold his in front of you to chin with. You chined and before he took a sip he said: ,,On us,"

You reapeted after him and smiled. Both of you took a sip, It was excelent as always. You spend some time talking about many things. It was nice and beautyfull night, but do you really thought it was all Diluc prepared? There was another thing.

Diluc took your hands in his while standing up. He look lovingly into your eyes: ,,To our anniversary," he take out of his pocket smal box. It was small black semish box. ,,Diluc, I don´t deserve that," he put his finnger on your lips to be quiet: ,,Please close your eyes," he said calmly.

You didn´t want to argue more so you close them. You heard small click when Diluc opened the box. The exitment grow in you. You want to know what is inside. He smiled when he saw again his present. Carefully he take it out from a box.

Something cold touched your neck... It was something from metal. It quickly adapted to your warm. It was a necklace. When he zip it he kissed your lips. It was passionate kiss, full of love. You reched to carres his cheek.

Two of you seperete to catch a breath. He hold your hands in his. You looked down on his presenet ge gave you. It was a beautyfull necklace with dark rubby. Dark red as a wine. It must be expensive. Diluc smiled as you adored the jewlery.

You look back at him. Tears of happaness in your eyes: ,,I never take it off," You hugged him thight around neck and whisper: ,,Don´t buy me any expensive gifts," He chuckle a little: ,,Everything for you love," You cheeks blushed and he kissed your forehead. Ater this moment you took your things and get home togheter. It was time to show him your present to yours anniversary, but thats another story.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hii! Hope you enjoy this story! <3 Sorry if it´s not good... I am sick a little, but I am trying to get well soon! Wish you great day and I thank you so much for your support! <3

-With love, Mantao. <3

[ryouverua]

Saimota is a fantastic ship that only improves with age and their respective maturity. Right from the get-go we see this in canon, too! They have a tumultuous first clash at the end of chapter 1 which is immediately turned on its head, and the subsequent growth and development of their in-game relationship really stands out that much more because of it.

This is a long one, so strap in!

Kaito realizes his mistake in his approach after punching him the night before and rectifies it immediately the next morning when he notices Shuichi hasn’t come to breakfast, rightly guessing that he’s stewing in his own grief and misery. And then, being the emotionally intelligent guy he is, he follows up that night and drags him out to exercise (which, y’know, releases endorphins and is scientifically proven to help with mood boosts and even depression) - a move which Shuichi says in chapter 5 saved his life.

A couple days pass and a body drops. Kaito supports him through the investigation knowing that Kaede had been with him last time and that there’s a danger of him relapsing. In the trial, too, Kaito makes every effort to let Shuichi know that he isn’t alone and someone does have his back if he fumbles. This is the real moment that Shuichi chooses to depend on Kaito and is rewarded for it, and while Kaito does get plenty of ego-feed out of it, he believes in Shuichi and his talent wholeheartedly (enough so that it’ll come back to bite him later). But despite it being framed as a ‘hero and sidekick’ relationship, it’s not just for Kaito’s self-worth - it’s to take some of the mental load off of Shuichi, who really, really doesn’t want the pressure of everyone’s lives solely on his shoulders, and is now dealing with the guilt of two cases where uncovering the guilty party hurt him.

(quick chapter 2 interlude! while this is where a lot of the big hero-worship begins for Shuichi and happens to be where I also did his first FTE and got to witness this:

this is also the chapter when these moments happen, post-breakfast and post-casino scene respectively:

and this happens in the very next FTE:

mmm yes, the duality of man. Suffice it to say, while Shuichi has definite rose-coloured glasses on for a lot of the game, Kaito is definitely not an invincible, untouchable hero in his eyes)

Interestingly enough, despite Shuichi still very much leaning into their friendship (and vice versa), they don’t spend a lot of time together in Chapter 3 after he brings Maki out to training that first night! While Chapter 4 is their real ‘break’, Kaito spends a lot of time in his room in the second half while Shuichi gets to know Maki better. And while Maki is a much, uh, meaner investigation partner (love you girl, but that tongue is sharp), they make a great team. Shuichi also starts poking at Kaito’s reason for holing up in his room, incorrectly guess that it’s just related to the occult being brought up. Most importantly, Shuichi is able to do an investigation on his own independent of Kaito just a week after the end of Chapter 1.

Chapter 4 and its immediate aftermath in 5 is great because it showcases Kaito’s flaws and insecurity, and what conflict between the two of them look like. It’s because Kaito respects Shuichi so much that cracks in his own confidence start appearing - and while Shuichi can be obtuse and awkward at times, he shows signs of wanting to broach some more sensitive topics with Kaito; if you do FTEs with Kaito in Ch 4, he even has an inner narrative in which he notes that Kaito had said his stomach hurt before.

He’s not so self-absorbed as to not worry about his friend (but narratively we gotta save that juicy plot point and subsequent reveal for the end of the trial) but hey, Kaito wants to chill and just shoot the shit - so why not have some downtime with his friend in the murder school. Btw, their FTE availability ends here - so if Shuichi has completed them with Kaito, he’s already had his canon-saimota thoughts at this point. While I have given Shuichi the side-eye for his ‘I can rely on Kaito for anything’ spiel, he is fully able and willing to stand up to Kaito in the Chapter 4 trial despite his canon feelings for him at that point. By the way, it’s been a week and a half since the end of Chapter 1 at this point. Shuichi and Kaito have had an arc together where they become fast friends in a pressure-cooker situation and bonding over shared grief for Kaede (even if Kaito’s is less obvious), Shuichi starts as dependent on Kaito’s emotional support but learns to stand on his own two feet, and Kaito is forced to confront his own weakness and hero persona, all while classmates are dropping (including Kaito’s own ex-hero figure, a stark reminder that ‘heroes’ do have flaws).

So the beginning of Chapter 5 is wild to me because of how it’s so often misinterpreted as Kaito immaturely giving Shuichi the silent treatment despite the entirety of the game preceding it explicitly showing that Kaito will tell you, loudly, when he’s angry at you, and that’s purely because we’re in Shuichi’s perspective and he thinks that’s what’s going on - but that’s a bit of a tangent. What I like about it is how we get to see what happens when Kaito (as sick as he is at that point) feels badly and embarrassed with someone he is close to; he withdraws as opposed to lashing out. And while Shuichi is really, really bad at reaching out too without an inciting incident (tunnel escape), he does try and broach the topic when push comes to shove. He’s not lost in hero worship, not even close - he is rightfully upset that the person he’s closest to at the school is upset while still maintaining to himself and the others that his actions were correct. He doesn’t waver on this, despite his attempt to offer an olive branch at the window of the hangar’s bathroom. He truly stands by his own choices in the last class trial and know he won't back down on that if push comes to shove, and that's important - he won't yield the point just to appease Kaito. Shuichi then manages the investigation on his own, leads the trial on his own, faces off with Maki (and who he thinks is Kokichi) on his own, because he has *reached* a point where he can be independent. And to bring it back to how we get a look at ‘saimota in conflict’, Shuichi and Kaito both make amends with each other by the end of the chapter. Even if it’s spurred by it being their final goodbye, Shuichi gets to say his piece, Kaito lays out one of his own vulnerabilities so he can make peace with Shuichi - and even if I’d love to have had them delve into all of Kaito's various issues, there is a very murderous robobear overseeing this which makes time a factor - and I firmly believe that if they had more time, they could’ve resolved even more of the issues that would come up for Saimota. The groundwork wasn’t just there; there was already half the structure in place. And that’s what makes saimota even more appealing to me, tbh. We get to see them build a relationship, run into a big issue, struggle through it and resolve it by the end of the game - and it means that there’s precedent for them to do it again as more interpersonal challenges come up! It’s a goldmine of ship exploration, and they care about each other enough to work through it.

… By the way, at this point they are 2 weeks past the end of Chapter 1.

Imagine if they had more time. Imagine if Shuichi, who is absolutely dogged in pursuing an issue once he catches wind of it (despite how he can get wrapped up in his own head), who cares a lot for other people, who doesn’t just find runaways as part of his detective talent, but follows up with them after because he cares about more than just finishing the job, had the chance to spend years with Kaito and realize he uses his hero persona to protect a much more fragile sense of self. Imagine Shuichi forming that initial friendship with Kaito without the albatross of Kaede’s death hanging around his neck; about how he’ll still look up to Kaito and his fantastic positivity, passion and excellence in his chosen field, and that would only be matched by Kaito’s own admiration of Shuichi’s skills as a detective. Imagine if Kaito, who repeatedly shows the ability to reflect and change his mind when presented with evidence against his viewpoint and was able to express his own insecurity and jealousy to Shuichi in the end, was given the breathing room and space to get more comfortable with doing so. Imagine how difficult and emotionally mature they were to navigate as well as they did in a life-or-death situation that took place over a couple of weeks tops, and how much more they could grow if given the time and space for it.

... And this was nearly going to be where I ended the post, until Ira reminded me of TDP and sent me this wonderful Saimota event (which takes place before the final graduation/training trio event):

Oh hey, Shuichi picked up his catchphrase! It's quite cute how he's finishing Kaito's sentence here - he's spent a couple of years being friends with Kaito at this point, and has even taken up exercising on his own for stress relief. I wonder whose influence that was?

Anyway -

Shuichi has figured out at this point that he does need to firmly extend that helping hand to Kaito rather than worry and keep it to himself. On the other side, Kaito has learned that it is okay to accept that outstretched hand, even if he doesn't need it right now - that he can admit that some day, he might. He's being blase, sure, but it is a far cry from his in-game 'I don't/won't need help'. Good for you, Kaito - you've grown a lot! And that's the most important thing their TDPs show - their capacity for growth not just as individuals, but in a relationship. Of course there will be bumps along the way - it’s very rare that any relationship won’t have them! - but they've proven that they can work these problems in the worst of circumstances. This is by far one of the strongest ships with canon foundation in the entire series, and my goodness do I still love it years later.

[strxnged]

BEING THEIR TWIN

-> BOKUTO, TENDOU, + OIKAWA

Content: You’re his twin sister </3 have fun. (Fluff/crack scenarios). ~600 words.

AN: this was different but REALLY FUN TO WRITE LIKE!?!? BEING TENDOU’S TWIN WOULD ACTUALLY BE THE BOMB LMAO

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

✧ Honestly, people don’t even realize that you’re twins when you aren’t together.

✧ You look different — both in hair and in stature. However, you share one thing in common, and that’s your energy.

✧ You and Bokuto are seriously a hazard to society when you’re together. You’re both really not all there, and together you share a total of one brain cell.

✧ Poor Akaashi. He tends to avoid you, because if you and Bokuto are in the same room, he can’t protect both of you.

✧ You always know just what to do when Bokuto is in a downward mood swing, and everyone envies your skills to boost him.

✧ You mercilessly bully Bokuto and bring up embarrassing things from his past when you’re visiting him at practice. You tend to earn small smiles from his teammates, Akaashi giving you a knowing look.

✧ Despite this, Bokuto loves you more than anything, and goes out of his way to brag about you (even though the two of you are quite similar and there isn’t much more to brag about than he’d have about himself).

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　ᴛᴇɴᴅᴏᴜ　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

✧ Oh boy.

✧ Yeah, it’s pretty obvious you’re twins. (It’s the hair.)

✧ Again, when the two of you are together, it gets scary.

✧ You have songs and rhymes that you came up with together, and you bounce the lyrics off of each other at random times of the day. Sometimes, you’re making it up on the spot, but of course no one knows the difference and no one wants to know.

✧ You were the only one that stood up for Tendou in elementary school (bye I’m crying).

✧ You’re also excellent at making fast decisions under pressure. Your reflexes are fantastic.

✧ The team… lowkey hates you. Because two Tendou teens is really overwhelming.

✧ The only person who doesn’t hate you is Ushijima, of course, because he has no reason to. And so you are vaguely nicer to him in return.

✧ You’re pretty, in a unique way. Your eyes have the same hooded, downturned shape that your twin has, giving you a similar sleepy aura. But you’re actually quite energetic, like Tendou. You just… act sleep deprived, sort of like him.

✧ Tendou likes to give you headpats, because you’re shorter than him, as he introduces you to people.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

✧ LMAO YOU ARE NOTHING ALIKE

✧ You’ve had to live with Tooru Oikawa your whole life — now, your attitude is pretty much just “Yeah I’m done with this” all day. Sissss you must be exhausted 😪

✧ You also like bullying your twin for literally everything. Even more than Iwaizumi.

✧ Speaking of Iwaizumi — you and Iwa and Makki and Mattsun are, like, the golden four.

✧ Oikawa got kicked out when they met you. Obviously not actually during games, but when just hanging out, it’s always you and then him tagging along.

✧ You and Iwa are literally the same person sometimes. Like, if you didn’t have the Oikawa appearance, people would definitely assume you were Iwa sister. But people just think you’re his girlfriend. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

✧ Oikawa forces you to let him do your hair. You want to smack him the whole time. But it makes him so happy that you allow it every now and then.

✧ He also steals your clothes. It be like that.

✧ You kinda act like you hate each other, but you also sort of complete each other so… you’re happy he’s in your life, to a certain degree.

✧ Although life at high school would have been much easier if people didn’t ask you all the time if you were related to the great Tooru Oikawa.

AN: Ah that was fun (I’m not very good at crack fics but I tried) I hope it was okay! Thank you anon for your request!

[inventors-fair]

Landslide Victory: Regional contest winners!

Congratulations to @azathoth-the-bored, @gollumni and @dabudder for winning this week's contest!

Let me tell you, this was a rough one for narrowing things down. In the end, I took the cards that, even though they might not have been my mechanical favorites, they did everything right in terms of proper wording, appropriate flavoring, balance, and game feel. That's the only way—because lord knows I'm gonna be gushing a fair amount this week. With some of these runners/judge picks, there's so much to love. Regardless!

@azathoth-the-bored — Urborg Trawler

With Vehicles becoming a part of day-to-day Magic, I love when they show up appropriately on various worlds, and this is no exception. Weatherlight did some awesome Vehicle shenanigans, and now here we are on the island of Urborg with a fantastic Dominarian-flavored boat. I can definitely see what this is doing in the world, and it feels perfectly appropriate. Someone crews through the muck on a muck cruise, and you get your bodies and/or treasure! Totally gets the trawling mood. The flavor text referencing Skulltown... Skulltown, c'mon, Wizards. Anyway. I kinda like how the dockhand is passing off the responsibility. It makes Urborg seem alive, gives it a dynamic. It's subtle but effective for me!

Mechanically, of course, this is an excellent card for this world. Now that Dominaria has its share of artifact-y Historic stuff going for it (or, well, that's what I associate with it), you can play this card as a historic enabler, to get back your other cards, and the expenditure of mana means that you can't immediately abuse it in limited. Later in the game for a sacrifice-y midrange type of deck, it's supremely strong; recursion always is, but you're tempering the recursion with choice. And THAT is excellent card design.

@gollumni — Bassomer Busker

I find myself surprised with this card in a way that's equally enthralling and frustrating. The thing is, it's a perfectly adequate limited card. You have a 2/2 for 3 that doesn't really do anything without Treasures, but you can make it fairly large and swing in and make combat math a touch harder. Or you can use it to crew bigger vehicles, I suppose? There are limited applications in the really powerful environment that New Capenna created. I don't know how much this card would be played, honestly, but I'll say that it feels like it belongs.

So maybe that's it. I want to be ambivalent about this card and I can't. What's the art direction here? Personally, I'm imagining a wild virtuoso that's getting the respected smirks from one side of the crowd and uncomfortable glances from another, with a deco guitar and a tarnished suit and a singing voice like the steam pipes around them. Or maybe an upturned drum set, maybe even a backing raccoon, a small crowd. It's a breath in a world of steel. Giving them money makes them stronger, and that's all there needs to be. I know this contest left a lot of open mechanical space, and I respect the simplicity of your choices, and how they succeeded in making a card that feels...warm. It feels like home in the city.

@dabudder — Skyfang Fall // Skyfang Crevasse

Also in terms of simple mechanics, I'm shocked to see that this kind of specific effect hasn't been done yet. Pinging equal to land ETBs? I mean, you have funny moments like the kind where Scapeshift can slam into a creature, but there were only five cards in ZNR that put land cards directly onto the battlefield, so chances are this is mostly going to be a pinger that's designed for funny shenanigans in other formats. Is that fine? Yeah, I mean, it's fine, it's probably not gonna be in the same set as Spikefield Hazard but this is a contest of concepts and conceptually it's great. The DFC lands were all radically awesome. Also, capitalize the 'a' in 'add' or I'm going to cry.

I like the relationship and the feeling that Nakkem brings to the world. They're a goblin on a mission! The mission is to save your butt so that they get paid. This human's slippage is a misstep but that's all right. There's a minor character here with a minor impact, and once again, the feeling of 'this place is dangerous but kind of fun' comes into the forefront. We really hadn't seen a place like Zendikar before when it first came out, and here's the thing: even though it's an Adventure World, what other "Adventure" worlds were there before it in fantasy? Zendikar is tropical, untamed, a continent of angels and goblins, a living place. What else compares? And getting back into the slices of that world is really what this is about.

More to come! Thank you all for your entries.

@abelzumi

[fic-dumpster]

Ghost Omi is taking a semi-hiatus. It doesn't apply to my collabs! Those are the only ones I’ll be working on.

I decided to write this to make it official^^

Forgot to add, but Moots can still call me just Omi 💜🫂

Also, I’ve been meaning to talk about this thing that’s been bothering me for quite a while. (my first moots might know for long this has been bothering me xD).

I’m going to take a rest, a pause with Deer in headlights. (not for my collabs). Just to clarify.

First of all, I know it might sound dumb to some, but I believe other content creators can understand my point. When a new story by someone (who has been on your notification before) shares similarities to a variety of your old pieces. SO! There have been some stories that I've seen that aren't precisely copying DIH, but the structure/development of some chapters, some words, titles, the mood, etc., etc. The resemblances are there, at least for me, and it's taking a great deal on my mental health. Why? Because I rather blame myself for writing such common things than accuse someone of copying. It's not playing the victim. It's stupidly believing in someone and being afraid of making the mistake of calling them out for something that might not be there. Between other stuff... Yeah. But my feelings, for me, are valid. So, I’m doing what I think is best and saving myself the stress and just stopping.

Wait. No, I'm not saying that someone isn’t allowed to write a bonten x reader harem because there are many! LOTS of writers that do so, wonderfully, may I add, without giving me this creepy copycat feeling. Besides, it’s a widespread trope. Hehe.

So, in light of the shadowban, I decided that it’s an excellent opportunity for a rest! Of course, I will answer questions whenever I have the chance and still do drabbles if I feel like it. Because not writing at all? XD I physically can’t.

One last thing, I’m very grateful for all the love everyone here has shown that series that wasn't supposed to be a series. 😤💕 You are as important as the writer. At least in my case! As many might know, fic-dumpster was not a writing blog. I only came here to dump wips with nice aesthetics, and then I would leave and never use this blog again. But then the WIPs of meeting Mikey and meeting Sanzu were liked/rb/commented, and I said why not? If these 3 or 4 ppl that commented nice things :3, want to know what happens next, I said, again, why not? Now we stand with 50 something posts 😬. AND I know my writing is... not the best; English is not my first language, I lack a lot in my areas, so I want to thank yall for this unspoken agreement of I-pretend-I-do-not-see-grammar/spelling-mistakes. 😂💕😂 you’re the real MVPs, okay? 🫂💕

P.s. There is one last DIH chapter in my drafts. I will post it... Next week? Prob? When I stop crying 😂💕.

[brekkerism]

BASIC INSTINCT (Part 1 - A Spencer Reid Series)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: (Y/N) has recently joined the bau through non conventional and rather privileged means. Couple that with a dark and troubled past, all she really wants is a fresh start. What she didn’t predict getting in her way of that, was one Special Agent Dr Spencer Reid. She thinks it’s hopeless and he’ll hate her forever. That is, until she sees Dr Reid on a rather...unusual place.

A/n: I kinda can’t believe this is my first Spencer Reid/Criminal minds fic. I’ve been obsessed for so long but I never got the courage to post anything. Well, we’ll see how this one goes. I really do hope all of you enjoy this, since I’m planning to make it multi chapters and I’m too in love to abandon it! Forgive me for not giving y’all the smut right away but good things come to those who are patient! And also huge thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins for being such a wonderful human and helping me beta this first one. Shout out to all the lovely people in the discord for encouraging me enough to write this. And also for my sweet liv, bc if she didn’t like this I would def not have posted.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Word count: 2320

Rating: R-no actual hard smut. For now.

Content warning: 12+ years age gap, description of bdsm scenes and play, swear words, brief fingering

*********

Since the first day I stepped in the bau, I knew Dr.Spencer Reid would not like me one bit.

Call it a gut feeling, a hunch, or maybe my justified pessimism.

 I knew the moment my dad told me, fresh out of the academy and not even slightly experienced at 24 years old, that I ‘mysteriously’ got a generous offer for a job with one of the best teams the FBI had to offer, that I wasn’t going to be liked by a lot of people. Because it wasn’t a mystery how I got the position. It was actually really plain and simple, and could be boiled down to one word:

Nepotism

I didn’t ask for it; I didn’t want it (no matter how much I actually wanted the position, but by my earning it on my own merits), but I completely understood something like this was likely to happen. I knew it the moment I moved back home and decided that the only thing worthwhile I really wanted to do was join the FBI. My dad was a good guy who was just trying to help me, his intentions were just a little misguided. It happens.

What doesn’t ‘just’ happen is that my dad is the deputy director of the FBI. His helping me was ‘making calls’ and ‘pulling strings’, which instantly gives my peers every reason to doubt every achievement I have.

But I was completely ready for it.  

What I wasn’t ready for is for everyone on the team to be normal and so welcoming to me, like I was any other agent. It was everything I wanted.

Well, everyone did that except him. I couldn’t figure it out why, but from the first minute he turned those eyes towards me, looking me up and down but never quite reaching my eyes, I could feel the scrutiny under the stare. Almost like he was saying “Really? This is it?”.

But with a blink it was gone, and he turned away from me and put his attention to the book in his hand so fast I almost thought I imagined the whole thing.

But I knew, I knew I saw it. And I knew that even if I didn’t want it, my body and brain would spend days trying to make him acknowledge me again, to look me up and down again, to try and prove to him what I’ve been trying to prove to everyone:

I deserved to be there. I could earn it by myself. I just need the chance to do it.

And so, my journey to try to not only be useful but a valuable agent, someone he would have to notice began.

 And it was shit.

Everyone was so willing not only to teach me, but to listen to my input.

Luke always had my back, both of us being the newbies in the team. JJ and Tara were always open to listening to theories, doubts and rambling, besides being totally badass inspirations. Penelope always had a eager and friendly attitude that could comfort me immediately, and she welcomed me with open arms. Emily and Rossi were patient, while also pushing me to be so much better, and being the best mentors they could be.

None of them even seemed to have even a passing thought of giving me special treatment or harsher judgment. It was almost perfect.

If it wasn’t for Special Fucking Agent Doctor Reid. He wouldn’t even be an asshole towards me, oh no, It was much, much worse. He ignored me.

He was almost happy to pretend I didn’t even exist. Of course there were situations that he couldn’t avoid socializing, as minimal as it was, but it was like he was talking to a wall. He looked at me like he was surprised that I was even there. He wouldn’t acknowledge me unless he was made to. He wouldn’t even correct me when I was wrong. At this point I was sure that I could be screaming bloody murder at him and he wouldn’t take his eyes off whatever he was doing.

It was the most frustrating and irritating thing that has ever happened to me. It made my blood boil over. It made me cry with sorrow.

And I couldn’t even figure out why. I didn’t know what it was that made me crazy because Spencer Reid wouldn’t look my way.

So I did what every angry and frustrated normal young adult does.

I went to a sex dungeon to drink my mixed feelings away and watch BDSM scenes. Duh.

Even though I wasn’t going there to play, and I thought I would never be able to play again, it was still a safe place for me. A place where I could see people that once knew the real me and provided a place free of any judgement. People who didn’t know who I was outside of those walls, who thought of me as just another person in that safe and different little world.

It also helped that watching, as much as it wasn’t my preference before, was the only thing that could properly get me off these days. And after everything, I thought I still deserved the ability to enjoy some parts of it.

And so, after saying my goodbyes to Pen, JJ amd Emily, and finding flimsy excuses not to join them at the bar for Friday drinks, I hopped the elevator, wondering how long would it take me to get properly dressed and drive across town, and if I was going to be able to call more of my old friends.

But all my happy thoughts of getting to immerse myself on a world I still loved were immediately clouded when a hand stopped the elevator and went in with me. His hand.

Great, just the perfect ending to an shitty day. A awkward elevator ride with Spencer Reid. And as always, he didn’t bother to acknowledge me, even though it was just the two of us riding down.

I was trying so hard to be in a good mood; to ignore the shitty end to a shittier case and go somewhere where I could try to be happy. But I just had to be met with his silence, his awkwardness, his existence in general. I didn’t want to feel like that today. So before I could stop myself, I did something stupid

 “So, what are your plans for the weekend, Doctor?”

Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Like he would voluntarily participate in small talk with me, something he already didn’t like, with someone he didn’t even bother to not like.

 “I think I’m going to go to a party with a friend today.”

Now that took me by surprise. No short replies? No one syllable answers? He actually told me something out of his own free will? He engaged in small talk?!

 “O-oh? I didn’t know you were one for partying... like, at all. Which friend are you going with? Do I know him?”

Talk to me. Keep engaging in small talk, please.

 “You don’t really know me well enough to judge if I am one for partying or not, now, do you? And you definitely wouldn’t know her. I don’t only hang out with people on our team, contrary to popular belief.”

Well that was extremely uncalled for. And rude. I thought that it was the first time he ever referred to me as part of the team, but that was an small detail to analyze later.

 “No need to be defensive or rude, I was just asking.”

 “Well, don’t.”

He was back to having that stupid blank expression on his face, back to not dignifying me with a proper answer, and that just wouldn’t do, would it?

I had a response. I had an excellent, spectacular comeback to use, but before I could actually defend myself in any way, the elevator dinged open. He couldn’t get out fast enough.

It was infuriating. So I did the only reasonable thing:

I followed him to his car to give him a piece of my mind.

Because of those immensely long legs, he almost got there quick enough to drive away and avoid me, but I would not let my stubby short legs get in the way.

I got my hand in before he could close his door, much like he did with the elevator. He still refused to look up at me but, the cheer disbelief and confusion on his face was enough of a response. Can’t ignore me now, asshole.

“You know, the only reason I don’t know anything about you, is because you pretend like I don’t exist. So don’t be needlessly rude to me. It’s better to keep not saying anything at all.”

And there it was. It was just tip of the iceberg, but at least I acknowledged it. I could actually feel a smirk forming on my face.

“Remove your hand please.”

And he finally looked up at me. All the disbelief and annoyance on his face were gone, replaced by that utterly bored and blank stare.

I actually wanted to scream. How was this the same guy that couldn’t stop talking and rambling enthusiastically about any and everything to anyone, the same person who had a perfect smile and warmth on his eyes for everyone else. How.

It was too frustrating. So I stepped back, removing my hand from his car door and walking towards my own car. It was better to just let it end already so I can wallow in my humiliation over this failed attempt at confrontation.

It almost put me in a bad enough mood that I didn’t want to go to the ‘club,’ but I had already promised Amara, who was not only one of my best friends but also happened to be dating that particular BDSM dungeon’s Mistress. There was no getting out even if I wanted to.

 And I didn’t really want to.

 ****

 A hour and dress change later, I was ready to go. This was absolutely nothing like the old outfits I used to wear for this events, but then again, I wasn’t the same girl. Not entirely.

So I opted for a silky black dress with a cowl neck and the best heels I had. It was sexy enough for a night of normal clubbing, but rather tame for a night at a dungeon. It was exactly what I wanted. It was less likely in that type of dungeon for anybody to approach or proposition me if I didn’t look experienced and in my element.

Even if I secretly was.

So I got ready, took my time to properly breathe, and left everything that wasn’t this night or positive thoughts behind the locked door of the apartment. I could come back to them later.

Right now, I was going to be happy and have fun.

 *****

I was not having fun anymore. It was unfortunate, and I felt like somehow that this had to be the bad mood I was in from a particular encounter earlier. I just couldn’t find anything that excited me the way I wanted it to. I had made the rounds with Amara, and she had showed me all of the new rooms and new toys before every space got occupied with busy couples and groups.

It was beyond fun exploring before the spaces were being actually used, and imagining what each person would get out of those rooms. It was a pleasant and happy feeling.

But soon enough the dungeon got filled with more and more people, and each room was occupied and used. Most were open for all that wanted to watch, but each scene I passed failed to get my attention. It was especially more daunting and lonely when Amara left to put on a show with her girlfriend in the main room.

And as pretty and wonderful as they looked, I just didn’t feel like watching a couple as in love as Amara and Celeste performing tonight. It was just... a little too much for me. After everything, most loving was.

No, what I was looking for was not that. I was looking for the thing I used to crave. The thing that used to keep me going at all times of the day.

I was looking for fucking. Not couples making love, not couples having sex, not pet play, not elaborate scenes or people using toys so strange and complicated I couldn’t make out what was what.

I was looking for someone completely fucking dominating their partner.

It shouldn’t be impossible to find. Not on a Friday night, and not in a club this good.

And I did. I finally found it.

The dom had his back to the audience and the door with the little window I was watching through. He was turned toward his sub standing on the side while she spread her legs on the bed, her hands tied up to the headboard, showing her pussy to the audience along the wall. It was the perfect scene for me. In fact, too perfect.

She even looked a little like me, in fact. Same build, similar hair. It got me even more excited to watch this through. I took a deep breath and finally opened the door. Stepping in, I leaned against the door, having a direct view to the bed.

And god did I want to watch.

The dom still had his back to us,but I wasn’t watching him. Rather, I watched the girl’s cunt and how he was fingering it, not saying anything for her or us yet.

He has really nice hands.

Really, really nice. In fact I don’t think I’ve seen such nice hands since –

Not the time!

The girls face looked rather blissful, and I imagined three of those pretty and long fingers should be doing just the trick for her.

But then she did something that displeased him.

She moaned. Loudly.

The sound was immediately followed by a sharp slap in her face.

Fuck, that made me wet.

But before I could even entertain the idea of getting my hands inside my panties, the dom spoke.

He spoke in a voice I almost never heard directed towards me, but could pick out in any crowd.

He spoke in the voice of the man that made me so mad I almost didn’t come to the club in the first place.

“Are my fingers inside you too much? Cause I’ll fucking stop if you can’t obey and stay quiet.”

 And I froze. I froze and panicked and had to stop myself from screaming by bringing a hand up to my  mouth.

 Because that was Spencer Reid, in a BDSM dungeon, dominating a girl right in front of me.

Taglist: @imagining-in-the-margins @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @gretaamyk @prettyricky187 @sunlight-moonrise @fanficlibrary82 @blazinvixen @samanddeanstolethetardis221b @httpnxtt @reidetic @hyper-fxation @blushingspencer @reidlusts @wishingwellwriting @redbullchick

I feel like I missed a lot of peeps but please know I’m still thankful ma loves

[mithrilhearts]

I’m just going to dive right in and say the Onion 👀

THE ONION!!! Oh my gosh, this is going to be so much fun! @stardryad-random and I have put together two big playlists for this fic already, and now to trim it down to a soundtrack like this? EXCELLENT, but tough. Great choice, my friend!

A Soundtrack for When Darkness Shines Brightest

3 Character Intro Songs

Shades and Shadows: Peter Gundry Star and I dubbed this as “Thorin’s Theme” for this fic a long time ago, and it has stuck ever since. It’s a perfect fit, and much like the rest of Peter’s work that is in these playlists of ours, it captures the somber attitude amazingly. It also gives me some small “Jack’s Lament” vibes, which, if you’ve been following this fic from the beginning, there are some loose TNBC elements here!

A Little Place Called Home: Adrian Von Ziegler This was dubbed as “Bilbo’s Theme” long ago as well! It’s a soft little tune that captures him, as well as his environment in a big contrast to that of Thorin. Also, I can say, you should be listening to this when we meet Bilbo, it just fits the scene so perfectly. When will that be? Soon.

Black Heart: BrunuhVille Oh man, we’re so excited to feature Arvinur (our young OC dwarf!) here in this one! This is a theme we decided fit him perfectly, which will be touched base on more later on in the fic, but it has this somber ‘music box’ style tune that really attaches to his character and what he’s lost. 

2 Lyricless “Mood” Songs

When Darkness Shines Brightest: Peter Gundry This one I feel is pretty self explanatory, it’s where we got the fic title from after a LOT of time looking. Also, Peter Gundry is a HUGE part of our “instrumental playlist” for this fic, the mood is just so PERFECT. It’s dark and somber and paints a perfect picture for the main setting of this fic - Erebor.

Tick Tock Goes the Clock: Jo Blankenburg Another theme for Erebor, but a far cry from what we’ve heard so far. It’s more fun and a nod to what the mountain used to be, as well as what lays within!

1 Villain/Conflict Song

Close In The Distance: Pealeaf, Chewie Melodies For any of my fellow FFXIV fans, you will absolutely recognize this one! And for those who don’t know the game, give it a listen, the song is just beautiful, and it occurred to me later on that it really fit a big conflict within the fic. I happily dragged Star into it too, and it’s just an emotional piece that I associate with a very big turning point that we’ll see later on. Enjoy!

4 Scene Songs

Fading Light: Aviators I wouldn’t say this is a specific scene song, but it’s a great theme for the fic overall. I would say it’s also a great “credits scene” song ahaha, if such a thing existed for fics!! One of my personal favorites when it comes to this fic.

Guiding Light: Mumford & Sons This song really fits the Thorin & Bilbo dynamic, though it is more relevant after a few chapters of the fic. I don’t want to touch base on it too much because we’re not that far in the fic (published, anyway ehehe).

Will the Sun Ever Rise: Five Finger Death Punch I associate this song a LOT with Thorin and his current situation within Erebor, being unhappy about the state of things. This is also a great song for when the full extent of his history and plight are brought to light against someone who has had it far easier than he..

Once Upon A Dream: Lana Del Rey This scene absolutely holds importance for a scene later on that Star and I have gushed over. I can’t talk about it yet, but just...listen to it and imagine for yourselves.

Send me any of my fics and I’ll give you a soundtrack!

[jadedxrealityw]

-Fragile- George Weasley x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: I know another George x reader, fight me. This is based around the quote “She was not fragile like a flower, she was fragile like a bomb” -Rahul Singh Rathour.

   Summary: George Weasley falls for a Slytherin girl who was an expert at keeping her negative emotions hidden. He was her little light at Hogwarts and kept her sane for the most part. Until one day when she’s pushed over the edge. 

   House: Slytherin

   Possible Triggers / Warnings: mental breakdowns, child neglect, manipulation, shit parents, panic attacks.  

    ☼-☪-☼

    She was not fragile like a flower, she was fragile like a bomb

   maybe you should have seen a therapist when you were little. Bottling up emotions was considered self destructive by most sane people, but it had become second nature. Growing up with parents who were always fighting, you just learned to keep things to yourself, so you weren’t a burden. 

   it was odd, despite all the shit you were put through, you were still kind. You were still yourself. You found comfort in fellow housemates like Draco Malfoy. You avoided him since he seemed like a snob, plus he was younger then you, but all that changed once you found him crying in a broom closet.

   the school year had only just started and he explained to you that his parents had been bickering with each other the whole time while shopping for new books. You didn’t speak a word of your family to him because you felt like it would take attention from his problem. You didn’t want to be selfish

   you and Draco soon became friends after that, but even as you two grew closer you never told him about your problems. You continued to bottle things up, which didn’t make much sense, since you had someone to confide to, maybe you had gotten so used to hiding your inner demons.

   you had heard of the Weasleys, pureblood family who had a lot of children. All of them different in so many ways, but exactly the same. The one who had caught your attention was George Weasley. Him and his brother were always up to something that involved a potion.

   lucky for you, you were always brewing a potion when you had freetime. Due to all the stress and not having a way to let it go, you would make yourself a draught of peace to keep your emotions in order. it worked for the most bit, it only lasted a couple hours so you only took it during classes.

       ☼-☪-☼

   6th Year

   you were stirring your elixir with a utensil when the creaking sound of the door opening caught your attention. You look from the cauldron and towards two ginger haired twins that were giggling and whispering things to each other that you couldn’t hear. 

   “Alright you grab the stuff we need- oh”

   both of them had looked up at you, freezing in there spots. “I’m guessing you're not supposed to be in here?” you spoke, going back to stirring. They both looked at each other before Fred Weasley spoke up “Your not going to say anything are you?”

   you simply shrug your shoulders before placing the utensil on the table “I could care less, as long as you don’t say anything either” you say. The both of them grin before Fred goes to the cupboards to gather his needed ingredients, leaving you with George. 

     he casually steps over to you and leans over your shoulder to look into your cauldron. He didn’t have to lean at all actually, he was much taller then you. “A draught of peace? Feeling stressed lately?” he questions, cocking his head to the side in a curious manner. 

   stressed was an understatement , but he didn’t know that “Something like that” you respon, figuring if you gave him a vague answer he’d take that as a sign to leave you alone. George only seemed more curious “How mysterious” he mumbles lowly to himself before leaving you to your potion.

   eventually you fill up about five vials full of potion and put your cauldron back in it’s respective area. Once you pocket the vials, you leave the twins to there mischievous task and you were on your way. That was your first encounter with George Weasley.

        ☼-☪-☼

   five vials only lasted you a week, so later on a friday night you snuck out of your dorm and into the potions classroom. You had on a grey hoodie, black leggings, and fuzzy white socks, something you wore to sleep in. It was comfortable. 

   today was especially stressful for you because most of the Slytherin house was irritated, which meant they were short with there words and snappy. The twins had pulled a prank on the Slytherin house by leaving pastries for them inside the dungeon.

   the Hufflepuffs would usually leave treats for Slytherins so it wasn’t strange, but it was actually a spiked cauldron cake that turned their hair different colors. You were one of the lucky ones since you had woken up late, never getting the chance to eat one. 

   once you entered the classroom, you were met with a  ginger boy. George Weasley, the twin who kept his orange locks shoulder length. It was how anyone really told the difference between the two. Fred cut his long ago and George had not, pretty simple. 

   “Oh, you again. Hello” he spoke before going back to chopping up some ingredient. His casual tone ticked you off more than you’d like to admit and you just scoffed, going to collect your items. The wizard seem to notice your behaviour “Bad day?”

   you grab the cauldron from the shelf, exhaling deeply “Yes actually. After the stunt you pulled on Slytherin” you reply, irritation seeping into your tone. A very cocky grin made a way onto his freckled face “Oh? Then maybe you shouldn’t have started it”

   your grip of the cauldron tightened. Any tighter and you might smash it to pieces. Placing the cauldron down harshly, you turn your head to face him “Look whatever feud you have with a couple Slytherins isn't my damn problem, mess with them not the collective house. It’s rude”

   as soon as you finished speaking you put your face in your hands. So much for not stressing out. You shake your head a bit to push away any remaining thoughts then go back to what you were doing, collecting whatever you needed. George on the other hand looked a mix between guilt and confusion. 

   he felt guilty because it was true, he could have just pranked the two or three Slytherins he was initially after, but he didn’t. He was confused because you had blew up on him so quickly, almost like you were holding it in for so long that it was waiting to be let out?

   “i guess i got carried away this time. I apologize- wait what’s your name?” George suddenly asked, realizing he didn’t know who you were exactly. All he could guess was that you were Slytherin by your previous statements, which surprised him a bit since you seemed....nicer.

   once you were settled at a table you looked up at the 6′3 boy “Y/n, i accept your apology, George Weasley” you say then look back down at the table. George lets out a small chuckle “I guess i don’t need to tell you my name then. I must be very popular then” You couldn’t help but snicker at his smugness. 

   “yeah i guess you are”

    ☼-☪-☼

   7th Year

   and ever since the beginning of sixth year, you’d meet George and sometimes Fred in the potions classroom to chat while you made potions. You loved the times you could hang out with twins, they always made you laugh when you had a bad day.

   but you cherished the times you got George alone. you just connected with him a different way. Whenever you worked on a potion he would push your hair out of your face or stand behind you, looking over you shoulder. The small touch sent ripples through you that you had never felt before.

   at first you thought maybe it was because you had thought of him as your friend, but whenever Draco or Fred had touched you you didn’t feel anything. Soon enough he started his casual flirting which included him complimenting your looks or how good you looked in a certain outfit. 

   it made your face feel hot and your stomach feel all queasy like you had bug or something, but you were never actually sick. After searching the library for possible answers you overheard Hermione Granger talking to Ginny Weasley, they were talking about what they felt when a certain guy talked to them.

   increase in heart rate, sweaty palms, queasy stomach, etc. Then they said one thing that changed your perspective “Don’t you hate being in love with someone, it’s so heart wrenching”  you spent the rest of that day in your dorm room stressing out like usual, but this time is wasn’t over your parents.

   now you had two things on your mind, your parents and George. A weird mix for sure. You were in love with George? How could this of happened? but you knew exactly how this happened, that Weasley twin used his charms and good looks to seduce you.

   what a bloody menace.

   now you were sitting at the Slytherin table in the great hall. Draco sat next to you, chatting it up with Blaise and his boyfriend Theo. You were just about to take another bite of food when an owl, a familiar owl flew over the table. It had a letter in its claws.

   once it passed over you it dropped the letter. You reach up and catch it in your hands “Ooo a letter” Draco comments, wiggling his eyebrows like a dork. You roll your eyes playfully and nudge his shoulder. He chuckles and turns back to face Blaise once again.

   you turn the letter in your hands, the wax stamp catching your attention. It was the initial of your last name, which meant it was from your parents. Great. You pop off the wax seal and slip it into your robe pocket before taking the sheet of parchment out of the envelope.

   ‘Dear Y/n, your father and i have read your recent grades and we are utterly disappointed. You’ve only gotten an Acceptable in all your classes. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a child who can not excel in anything? your the reason me and your father have been bickering so often. For the upcoming break you will be staying at Hogwarts and studying everyday and night. We also found a journal in your room with all the horrible lies you write about us. Don’t come back until you learn how to be a grateful daughter’

   well that killed the mood. Why did they read your diary? What kind of parent does that? Was it really all your fault that your parents fought? “Aw poor Y/n? Do mommy and daddy not love you anymore? How does is feel princess?” you had almost forgotten that you were sitting next to her.

   she was a Slytherin girl who didn’t like you because you weren’t a pureblood and because your parents only acted like they cared so much about you in public. You figured out quickly she was jealous of what she thought that you had, loving parents. 

   you neglected saying anything back to because you heard that her father was locked up in Azkaban a little while ago and admittedly felt bad for her, but for some reason the way she said it. The way she was so smug with her words just rubbed you the wrong way.

   your whole life you’ve let every negative thought fester and build up like a disease. It was like a pot of boiling water that was about to bubble over and spill out. You hadn’t taken any draught of peace either in a couple hours because lunch was usually peaceful for you.

   this poor girl was going to get the anger you’ve held since you were a child and you would feel guilty for it later, but the lid on your metaphorical bottle had popped off. You stood up from your seat and looked down at her, surprising her and Draco.

   “Listen here you stuck up bitch, i can’t fathom a reason as to why you have to fuck with with me constantly?! You think this shit is a one time thing?!” you stop momentarily to throw the letter at her face. She swats it away, her face draining of color from embarrassment.

   “Try living with them for 17 years and then you’ll figure out that they only act like your family in public! They send you huge gifts on your birthday to make sure other people see! You have no right to harass me like you do! I wish i had loving parents!”

   the girl sat there stunned. What could she say anyway? That she was sorry probably, but you most likely wouldn’t have accepted that answer at the moment. You had caught everyone's attention at this point with your loud, harsh words. Even the bright honey colored eyes of George focused on you.

   angry tears had forced their way out your E/c eyes despite your efforts in trying to hold them in. You look around the great hall, looking at all the eyes staring back at you. Without a second thought you rush out the great hall, hearing two distinct voices shout for you to come back.

    ☼-☪-☼

   breathe

   breathe!

   why was it so hard to breathe? Were your clothes tightening or were the lungs in your chest failing on you. You rush outside into the empty courtyard, gripping your robe to tug it away from your skin almost as if it was choking you. You start to pull at your clothes more.

   you remove your arms from the sleeves of your robe and drop it on the grass beneath you. Still couldn’t breathe. Reaching for the bottom of your vest you slip it up and over your head and drop it on top on your robe. Lastly, you tug at your tie to loosen it.

   you were still hyperventilating. 

   “Y/n?” 

   turning around you saw the familiar honey colored eyes look down at you. A face of confusion and sadness n his freckled face. George Weasley. No, please you would only complicate your emotions more, but you wanted so badly to be his embrace at the moment. 

   he decided for you, cause as soon as he saw your tears. He felt his heart tug harshly.

   “Oh darling” he started, his voice broken and raspy like he was about to break out in tears as well “Come here” he finished and held his arms out for you and that was enough for you. You rush into his embrace and are instantly meant with calming scent of burning wood, and wood from a broomstick.

   your wheezing noise worried George and he started to rub your head “Darling you need to breathe okay? Your going to faint if you keep doing that, in and out okay?” he inhales loudly so you could hear and you copy his actions, doing the same when he exhaled.

   after a couple minutes you were breathing just fine, but you still felt terrible. “Everything's all my fault. i tried so hard to be a good person, but it’s never good enough. I didn’t burden anyone with my problems and hid them away- i just couldn’t do it anymore”

   your voice cracked, the lump in your throat going away. George pulled his head away that was resting on top of your hand and used one of his hands to gently force your chin up to look at him. He used the other hand to reach in his back pocket.

   George pulls out the same folded parchment that you had read earlier “This? You believe this rubbish? Y/n you are the most interesting girl i’ve ever met and i wish you had told me about this. I’m your..friend and i want to help you. Listen, you are strong, brave, and anybody would be lucky to just breathe your air”

   you cracked a small smile at his words which seemed to make his face light up as well. “Thank you George. I suddenly feel very faint” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Probably from crying so much darling. Let me take care of you for the rest of the day, okay?”

   “Do i really have a choice?”

   “Not really, no”

    ☼-☪-☼

   George took you to his dorm- oh wait. he actually carried you to his dorm. He didn't want you to actually faint and hit your ‘pretty little head’ on the hard floor. His words exactly. The rest of the day was spent of him feeding and you and making sure you were hydrated. 

   after asking only once you opened up to him about your parents and there expectations. His face of horror was enough to make you realize that what was happening to you wasn’t normal. After you had finished talking it was almost like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

   you felt free.

   it was towards the evening time and you didn’t want to intrude any longer. “Thank you for helping me, it’s getting pretty late-” “You sound like your leaving?” George cut you off just as you stood up from his bed, looking at you with pleading eyes “Stay? Just for the night?”

   “What if a professor sees me when i leave the next morning and where would i sleep?” you question, crossing your arms over your chest. George shrugs his shoulders “It's saturday tomorrow no professors will be checking and you’ll sleep in my bed, with me. I promise not to be to handsy darling”

   a cocky smirk grew on his face, making your stomach twist and turn just like all the other times before. You began to stumble on your words “Uh- i- i don’t have anything to wear” you huff. His smirk seems to grow wider, if that was even possible. 

   “you can wear some of my clothes of course-” a knock cuts him off and he look towards the door “I’ll see who that is and send them away. You get dressed, i won’t peek” George sends you a cheeky wink before going to the door. what a dork. 

   nonetheless, you go over to his dresser and began to dig through the drawer while he went over to the door. Once he opened it, you couldn’t help but listen in. “Hey Freddie” George says in a sing song voice. Fred Weasley. “Hey, it’s saturday. Potion time”

   potion time?- oh for pranks. Was he going to leave you to go make potions? you pick out a burnt orange jumper with a ‘G’ initial and black sweats “Actually i can’t tonight? Maybe tomorrow?” he replies, making Fred’s face twist in confusion before astonishment. 

   “Oh! You have a girl in there don’t you!” he said quite loudly, making George shush him quickly. You began unbutton your uniform shirt. “Lower your voice, i’m not tryin to get caught because of you” he replies. You place your shirt on a chair next to you and slip the jumper over your head. It was huge on you.

   Fred stifles laughter and leans against the doorframe “Who is it” he says, making you freeze for a moment. George raises a brow “and why would i tell you that?” he questions while you push your skirt down your legs, kicking it away with your feet. “Oh because i’m your brother? Your twin brother George”

   they were adorable. You pull the sweats on and tie the strings so it was resting snuggly on your hips. “yeah yeah whatever, bye Freddie” George begins to close the door “Aw come on don’t be like that-” he shuts the door on his brother and turns back to look at you.

   “Sorry about that-” he froze in place, his eyes taking a mental image of how you looked. He could die at that moment and be content with life. You notice his weird face and looked down at the outfit “I’m sorry, should have i have picked something else?”

   he didn’t say anything and just stepped towards you until he stood inches in front of you. He reaches up to grab your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. You also noticed a small smile on his face that was slowly growing into a grin. “George?” you ask, your voice a whisper. 

   he tilts his head a bit as his golden eyes scan your face “Can i kiss you Y/n?” he asked, catching you off guard. He wanted to kiss you? Did you want to kiss him? He made you laugh, smile, and feel like you were the only witch in the whole wizarding world. 

   yeah, you definitely wanted to kiss him. 

   you nodded once and that was enough for him. He dipped down to your height and plants his lips on yours. The calming scent of burning wood invading your nose once again. You respond quickly and kiss him back, feeling his goofy grin, still such a dork. 

   the kiss was sweet and gentle. George’s heart was beating at a million miles a minute and so was yours. Air, you needed that to live. You both pull away from each other, gripping onto each others clothes. When did that happen? “You are breathtaking darling, literally actually”

   you snort at his dorky compliment “Way to kill the mood Weasley” you comment and he chuckles lightly before looking into your eyes “I know today hasn’t been the best for you and this might make it worse, but- i am so in love with you darling. I have been since the first day we met last year”

   you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, but at the same time you were waiting for it after that kiss. “I love you too George, you giant dork” he smiles brightly as he scoops you up in his arms for a second to throw you on the bed. you gasp as your back connects with sheets.

   he climbs in next you “I take back that promise about being handsy, get ready to be my teddy bear darling”. You feel the fuzzy stomach thing again- or whatever it was called. you watch as he shuts off the lamp and grabs the blanket at the bottom of his bed.

   “i think i’ll manage” you reply as he places the sheet over your body and his. George turns his body towards you and grabs your waist “Tonight? yes, in the morning i have you all to myself as well and i don’t plan on letting you leave” he smirk was screaming what his intentions were the following morning. 

   your face must have been super red. “yeah you wish” you mumble, which makes him snicker. He knew the effect he had on you. “Night darling” he says and kisses your temple sweetly. You smile and lay your head on his chest, falling asleep in his embrace. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @moonpi3 @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: It’s 5am?! oh shit- well anyways peace lmao. 

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos(2/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1.1K (short bc it I split pt 2 and 3)

Part Summary: Sam and Y/N begin their first day of filming on set for the new season of The Seasons of Life 

Masterlist

Bright and early the next morning we begin filming the new season for the show. A mini-reunion takes place on set since all of us haven’t seen each other since filming the season finale last year. Today, the show is on location in Beverly Hills. Sam and I, well I suppose Hollyn and Elliot, are eating at Il Pastaio. We’re sat outside at a table just off the sidewalk along with some extras and genuine people simply getting lunch. Our director, Jonathan, has us running the scenes over and over. Between takes, Sam never fails to make me laugh. Even when I’m tired of repeating scenes, he lightens the mood.

After watching over the last take, Johnathan walks over-enthusiastically.

“Okay! We’re going to run it again! You two are doing great! All we need to do is run through the scene completely and capture Y/N as she walks out angered by you Sam, all good?”

Sam and I give the go-ahead while we return to our starting marks on the pavement for the next scene.

“Now, for the storm out!” Johnathan starts to explain to us how he wants it to pan out. “Hollyn has just told Elliot that when she goes off to college she’s going to try to live on her own without her parents' assistance! That means no trust fund, no allowance, nothing and she knows this! You know Hollyn, she never enjoyed the luxurious lifestyle. She may have grown up in a world of immense wealth but she knew it was never meant for her. Elliot loves the fact that he can buy his way out of anything. He not only accepts the fact that everything he ever could want is handed to him, but he also doesn’t mind it. This is why when Hollyn says her piece. Elliot encourages her to not go through with the idea. This leads to her storming out!”

“Gotcha!” I adjust myself in my chair and Sam preps for the scene.

“Geez, Hollyn can be so difficult!” he mocks jokingly.

I gasp, placing my hand over my chest. “If Elliot was more understanding then maybe they wouldn’t break up so often.”

Since we’ve been with these characters for as long as we have, they’ve become a part of us. I see a lot of myself in Hollyn. I’m sure Sam feels the same about Elliot.

“Ready?” Johnathan questions and the two of us get settled into character. “Ready! Okay, quiet!” Jonathan signals for the scene to begin and I lean back into my chair. “Action!”

“You seem off, is something bothering you?” Sam asks Elliot.

“You’re right,” I recite my line with a furrowed brow. “I’ve decided I’m not going to business school. It’s never been my dream job. I think moving to Chicago will be best for me. I can go to Northwestern, study Creative Writing.”

An extra playing our waiter delivers us water right as Sam acts baffled by my statement.

“Hollyn, your parents would cut you off entirely!” He voices as a warning.

“Exactly!” I light up, enthusiastic about the thought. “They would have no control over me! For the first time in my life, I would have control over my own life!”

Sam shakes his head and laughs breathlessly. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Honey, how will you pay for school? Your living arrangement, food, etc. There are so many factors that need to be considered. You’ve depended on your parents for seventeen years, almost eighteen. Your best choice is sticking to what your parents see fit, Stanford and business school.”

Pretending to be devastated, my mouth is parted and my eyes watery. Elliot is supposed to be supportive of Hollyn and he completely shut her down.

Sam continues, “I know you think you live a normal life. Working and just getting by but that’s not realistic. You’ve grown accustomed to having nice things.”

Sam goes on, reciting his lines and I act in shock. Staring down at my lap, fake crying silently.

“I mean come on, you’ve never worked a day in your life. You need that trust fund. You will always be the little princess you are!” He finishes, taking a sip of his water.

My head snaps up at his last comment. “Right,” I mutter breathlessly. I shoot up from my seat and chuck up my napkin at him.

“Hollyn, sit down!” he barks between his teeth and looks around the restaurant.

“I’ll prove you wrong! I’ll prove all of you wrong,” I snap back and storm off until I’m out of view of the cameras.

Off-camera, I watch Sam continue to act out the scene. Elliot is meant to look as if he realizes the harshness of his delivery. Instant regret coats Sam’s features and he raises from his chair to go after Hollyn.

“Cut!” Jonathan announces and Sam joins me behind the cameras. “Excellent job!” He compliments us. “Go have your break and we’ll start filming the fight the makeup scene by the car,” he instructs.

“Awesome! Thank you!” I gleam as I rise from my seat.

Sam walks with me to our trailer. He shuts the door behind us and I plop down on the black leather couch. Sam lodges out on the one across from me.

“I’m having a party tomorrow night,” he says while flipping on his side to face me.

I do the same, “cool story.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Meaning, I would love if you could come…”

I hum and press my lips together, “I might make an appearance.”

“Oh, whatever!” He chucks one of the couch pillows at me.

“I’ll feel so special if you can find the time for little ole me!” I laugh and toss the pillow back “Oh! Don’t forget! James Corden tomorrow!”

Sam's face turns into an ‘oh crap!’ look. He totally forgot.

“We’re begin interviewed about last season, this season, most likely our summer plans and your GQ cover!” I remind him.

“I’ll be ready! It just slipped my mind for a second,” he brushes off.

“You better be ready! I don’t want the rumor mill to start going if you flake!” I warn playfully.

“I wouldn’t bail on you like that,” he replies seriously.

“I know. I trust you,” I smile genuinely.

“Good,” he smirks and suddenly the pillow hits me in the face again.

“You’re so annoying!” I tease but can’t help but laugh at his immaturity.

Sam still acts like a thirteen-year-old when he’s a handful of years older than me. We manage to balance each other out. When I act childish, he’s the mature one and vice versa. I’m so thankful we met almost two years ago at auditions for the show. I can’t imagine working with anyone else. He was the first friend I made in Los Angeles and has become my best friend.

___________________________________________________

Masterlist

@canyoubuymetoast​

[ppersonna]

kiss it better - ksj | m

been waiting on that sunshine boy, i think i need that back.  can't do it like that. no one else gonna get it like that. - kiss it better, rihanna

↳ summary- your best friend Kim Seokjin makes you an offer you can’t refuse

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 3.7k

↳ pairing- seokjin x reader

↳ genre- smut, comedy, fluff

↳ warnings- oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, dirty talk, daddy kink, jin making really bad jokes at bad times.

↳ a/n- well hello there!  i hope you enjoy this!  this fic is a collab with @kookiesjoonies​ all about bad hookups being saved by BTS.  make sure you check out her yoongi fic HERE!  i hope you enjoy this little piece!  i love the visual of jin....well.... you get the idea HNNNGGG *vibrates in thot*.  feel free to message me, send me an ask, comment, throw a rock at me, whatever u wanna do i wanna engage w/ UUUUU.  LOVE YOU ALL! -lindy 

If you had to pinpoint a moment where it all started, where everything changed, it was the night you came home after another bad hook up left you nearly crying in your shared 2 bedroom apartment.  

Jin found you pouring an excessive amount of wine into a mug, on the verge of tears.

“Terrible date?” Your roommate asks as he leans against the door of the kitchen and motions with his head towards the gallon of alcohol you’re about to drink like it’s coffee.

“You can fucking say that again,” you grumble.  You will not cry—you’re forcing that mantra through your brain at whiplash speeds.  

“Jeez, how bad could it have been to make you wanna pound a keg of wine?” He jokes.  Your eyes level with his and he can see you’re not in the mood for comedy.  Another time, he supposes.

“Men,” you laugh with mirth.  “You and your stupid fucking dicks and no brains and all you care about is getting off.”  You’re fuming with anger, which given the situation is probably more than what is called for but you’re sure if the next hook up you manage doesn’t care to get you off, you will go absolutely wild.

“I’m still not grasping what’s wrong here,” he folds his arms over his chest and relaxes against the wood.  You’re clutching the wine glass—mug—but still not drinking it.

“I haven’t gotten off!” You exclaim with enough gusto that some wine spills out.  Jin rushes towards you and grabs a rag.  He knows you’re lethal in the kitchen.  Sticky for days.  

“You haven’t gotten off? Like they don’t make you cum?” He asks as he wipes up the harsh red liquid on the counter.  Your eyes watch his hands and for a second, a split second, you admire the tendons and veins moving under his skin as he cleans up your mess.

“Exactly.  It’s a one and done, get out of my bed sort of thing,” you huff.  “I’m not asking to be cuddled or whatever.  But can’t a girl at least get some oral?”

Jin stifles a laugh and wrings the rag out in the sink.  “How long has it been since someone made you cum?”

A wave of shame courses over you, but you’re not sure why.  Jin’s someone you trust.  It’s not like he thinks any less of you for fucking guys who don’t have a shred of decency. 

“I mean, I can make myself cum every night in my room,” Jin’s ears turn a slight shade of pink at this and you’re suddenly curious.  “But with a guy? Fuck, probably a year.  Looks like I pick the real winners.”

He’s silent, and it makes you feel nervous.  You can’t explain it—or rather you refuse to accept what you’ve been avoiding for a while.  That your eyes linger on your roommate’s form as he exits the shower with a towel around his waist, the broad expanse of his bare shoulders with water still running down his back.  The way he pushes his hair back when he’s tired.  That you’ve had more than one night of slipping your hands down your body with the image of him in mind.

It feels wrong.  It feels dirty to think of your best friend in such a way.  And yet, it thrills you even more.  

“I hope you don’t—... feel like I’m sleazy or something,” you murmur, buried in your newfound self-consciousness.  

He smiles up at you and leans over the counter, resting his head on his hands and watches you curiously.

“I could make you cum,” he offers.  It sounds like he’s offering to run errands for you, buy your lunch when you forget your wallet.  

It’s so simple that you’re stunned into silence.  Your brain skids to a halt to process what just escaped the mouth of your longtime best friend, roommate, confidant.  

He chuckles as he watches the gears try to turn in your mind.  “I’ve been told I’m great at oral.  Not to brag.  Just what I’ve heard.” The smirk on his lips definitely tells you he means to brag.

“You want--... to eat me out?” You ask incredulously.  He’s still staring at you like it’s no big deal, just another everyday event.  Best friends getting each other off.  You wash the dishes, he dries, then he’s buried tongue deep in your cunt? Is that how it works?

“You seem really upset, and as your friend, if I have the tools to fix it, why would I hold back?” He postulates.   You can’t help but agree with his theory.  Your heart is thumping soundly in your chest.  Is it just a friendly thing?  Is he offering out of the goodness of his heart or is there something more?  Are you willing to let your pussy win out and get the pleasure at the sake of getting your heart broken? 

It doesn’t take long to decide.

Fuck yes you are.

“Okay,” you agree. “Are we going to fuck too?” You ask as you wash your hands of any remaining wine.  You haven’t drunk a sip and you still feel tipsy and lightheaded.

“Do you want to fuck?” He narrows his eyes at you in playful suspicion.  

It makes you blush.  “I—I’d like to…” you’re suddenly shy and you can tell it thrills Jin to see you thrown off your game.

“Then let’s fuck, baby girl,” he smirks as he pushes up from the counter top he rested on moments ago.  

“Your place or mine?”  His joke is stupid, but it makes you laugh, anyway.

“Knowing your disgusting ass, your bed is covered in god know’s what.  Mine, please.”

He tuts and walks behind you down the hallway, hand resting gently at your back. 

“Is that any way to talk to your best friend? The one who’s going to eat you out until you’re crying for more?”  His words send a shiver down your spine, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Well, fuck—when you put it that way…” you trail off.  

Your bedroom has never felt more foreign to you in your life.  It’s the same as it always is.  Queen-size bed, photos on the wall, messy laundry in the corner spilling out of the hamper.  But now you’re in it with Jin.  You’re in it with Jin because he’s promised you at least one orgasm and you’re sure he will try for more, knowing his ego.

“Welcome,” you gesture nervously as you sit on the bed.  

He rolls his eyes.  “Stop acting weird,” he chides. “It’s me, you don’t have to be weird around me.”  He’s pressing you down towards the pillows to relax.

You want to retort it’s exactly why you’re acting weird.  The man you play drunk Monopoly at 3 am with is pressing into you now like he wants to eat you for hours.  He’s seen you crying, held your hair back while you puked, heard or witnessed your most embarrassing moments.  And now he’s about to fuck you stupid.

You allow your body to relax against all the sirens in your brain telling you this is weird, this is fucked up, you’ll regret it.  The blood is rushing out of your frontal cortex and towards your lower half, making your pussy drunk on anything Seokjin can give you.

He smiles as he sees your body relax into the comforter on your bed and he places a hand on your cheek.

“See?  Easy peasy.”  You roll your eyes and he chuckles.  You want to comment, tell him he’s a fucking idiot like you always do when he says something cheesy, but he beats you to the punch and presses his lips against yours gently.

You’ve always wondered what his lips would feel like against your own. He tastes like peppermint. Idly, you realize you’ve always associated Jin with the taste of warm, smoky vanilla, but now that you’re here with your tongue swirling around his, the peppermint makes sense. It suits him. 

He kisses you tenderly. It’s not the rushed kiss of a quick hookup. It’s not the passionate kiss of long-lost lovers.  It’s the sweet, compassionate kiss—the kind that wants to make you feel like nothing is wrong in the world.  Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat as he cups a cheek in his embrace and rubs the delicate skin there with a thumb. 

The kiss is finished too soon for your liking. He’s pulling away and smiling down at you. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t quite put your finger on but it makes you feel lit up like Christmas. 

“I hear I’m an excellent kisser too,” he smirks down at you and the moment is lost. “Would you agree?” 

You roll your eyes. “God, I can’t believe you,” you sigh. “You’re hopeless.” 

He tugs on the hem of your shirt, indicating he means to take it off.  You tense for a moment. It seems you’ve stupidly forgotten you should be naked for this act. You’re about to be naked and laid bare in front of your best friend who you’ve harbored an inkling of a crush on. He’s about to see your most vulnerable side. Could you trust him? What if he mentioned the freckle above your ass? What if he pointed out something wrong with your body?  A wave of uncertainty washes over you. 

Jin pulls your shirt off easily and gently. He tosses it toward your ever-growing laundry pile and turns his attention back to you. You’re still in a nice, pretty bra from the hookup and Jin’s eyes are captivated.  The cocky smirk is wiped off his lips, and instead he gapes. Your breasts are encased in creamy red satin and he sits up straighter and can’t break his gaze. 

“Wow,” he breathes, and it makes your cheeks heat. 

“Sorry, I know it’s too much, I can just—,”

He cuts you off with a finger to your lips. 

“I always knew you were pretty but, fuck—.. you’re a vision. You’re gorgeous.” 

You’re heating. The way your core clenches around nothing as Jin compliments you with all sincerity and no sense of humor like he does has your blood rushing.  

“Can I—,” he swallows as he attempts to steel himself. “Can I take it off?” 

You nod, too shy to impart any dialogue and assist him by lifting your back slightly to allow his hands space to un-clasp the lingerie. 

It falls away easily and you close your eyes as your full globes come free. You hear Jin’s breath catch and it’s silent. A few beats pass and you’re ready to end everything now, it’s too awkward, when a hand gently cups one and a thumb rubs over the nipple. It makes your spine tingle. 

You crack your eyes open and see Jin staring intently at your chest, following his thumb as it drags back and forth against the hardening nipple. 

“I think you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

You want to argue and tell him he’s just saying that to be nice, but the retort dries up in your throat as he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth.  He tugs on it with the suction of his mouth and licks stripes against the bud. You moan loudly.  It feels like he’s praising you with his mouth. 

Jin takes his time.  You can tell he’s in no rush.  He suckles and presses kisses to your breasts with the same attention to detail he gives his culinary creations.  He massages each globe in his hands and alternates his lips back and forth between nipples.  He draws sweet sighs and moans from your lips and your fingers thread through his thick hair.

After his careful ministrations, he pulls up and smiles at you.  

“I’m not going to lie,” he starts. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped.  Kim Seokjin, your roommate and best friend, has wanted you? As much as you have wanted him? 

He can see you’re faltering for words and he shrugs.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.  It doesn’t have to change anything.”

His immediate dejection spurs you into action.

“I’ve wanted it for a long time too,” you reply.  “Jin, why would I agree to have sex with you if I wasn’t interested in being with you?”

He smirks a little and you know you’re in for a witty one-liner. 

“You wanted to take a ride on this wild stal-Jin.”

His grin is cocky, as it usually is, and as annoying as his jokes are, it loosens a knot of nerves inside you.  You had somehow convinced yourself Jin would be a completely unfamiliar person after this.  It seems that wouldn’t be the case. 

“Oh my god,” you groan.

His hands and mouth are roaming your chest and stomach, peppering the skin with kisses. He teases at your navel with his tongue and any irritation you felt at his terrible pun flies out the window as you feel a surge rush through your veins straight to your cunt. 

He fiddles with the button and fly on your jeans, the ones that hug your curves just perfectly. 

“Your ass looks good in these jeans,” he comments as he tugs them down. “Almost a shame to take them off. But I’d rather get a full uncensored view.”

You blush and lift your hips to allow him to pull your jeans off. Long legs are spread on the bed and a thong barely protects your modesty.  It’s already soaked, there’s no denying it when Jin steals a glance and cocks a coy smile. 

“Naughty,” he tsks jokingly. “Someone’s excited to get sucked by the Seok-master.” 

“Jesus Christ, Jin,” you sigh. “I hate you.” 

“I’d like you to try to say that again when I’m three fingers deep inside you with my tongue.” 

His words roll over you like a trail of fire. It clenches at your throat and sizzles down to your core. You can’t help but let a moan out and arch your back. 

“I thought so,” he smirks.  He fingers at the straps of your thong for a moment and then trails a finger down your slit.  It’s wet and warm, and he bites a lip. 

“Bet you’re real pretty here too. I think about what your pussy looks like a lot.” 

It’s sending you into an unfamiliar state of consciousness to hear Kim Seokjin say such illicit things about you—things you thought to be off-limits. 

“Bet it looks even prettier with your face buried in there.” A sly smile spreads on your own features, and Jin looks pleased. 

“That’s my fucking girl.” 

He tugs the black thong down and it joins the chaos on your bedroom floor. 

He’s here now. It’s real. It’s happening. His eyes are glued to your cunt, and a finger is tracing the outline of the lips there. 

“No one has ever made you cum from oral?” He asks again. He’s mystified by your center and he hasn’t even seen the full thing yet. 

A shuddering breath escapes you as you confirm. “No, no one ever has.” 

He sucks his teeth for a moment and remains silent.  His fingers slowly slide in to spread you open lewdly, displaying your clit like the grand prize behind the curtain. 

“I’ll make sure you get off every single night,” he promises. “No more hooking up with assholes.  All mine, okay? Just like you always should have been.” 

It’s hard to breathe as you feel his fingers achingly close to your clit and you’re sure your channel is weeping with desire. 

“Okay, Jinnie,” you murmur. 

“It’s daddy, now, baby.” 

It feels like the world stops and you whimper with need. 

“Please, daddy,” you cry. “I need you.” 

“I can tell, baby. Your poor little pussy hasn’t been shown the love it deserves, hm?” He asks. He still refuses to move any closer to where you need. “You need daddy, don’t you? You need someone who will worship this cunt.” 

The air in your lungs is sucked out with vacuum-like force. 

He lowers himself to lie between your legs, face close to your center. He spreads your legs further, almost on the verge of discomfort, and wraps his arms under your thighs and grips at the tops to keep you spread. 

Suddenly, he’s pressing his face into you and a tongue darts into your channel and laves around.  Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling.  

He’s testing the waters, per se, and getting a taste of you. He wants to know what spots drive you crazy.  Are you solely a clitoral stimulation girl or do you need the feeling of something filling you tight and deep too? He hopes to learn every single aspect about your cunt before the night is over.  

He watches your facial expression as he licks from your walls and up to your clit. Your face contorts in ecstasy as the tip of his tongue flicks quickly on the nub. You’re gasping with desperation, singing his praises as he suckles and rub at your button with his tongue.  

You taste delicious; he notes. Earthy, but still sweet like nectar. He thinks maybe your body was tuned to be his. 

He spends time there, and it drives you mad. He’s sucking and flicking and dipping his tongue inside you and you feel a sense of euphoria no man has given you.  Jin’s pillowy plush lips apply just the right pressure to your clit, kiss it so sweetly you might cry as he then inserts himself to lap up your juices. He drinks as if he’s dehydrated of you, only you, and if he doesn’t get more, he’ll perish. 

“Jin—.. daddy, fuck,” you correct your mistake and it makes him chuckle against you. 

“Good girl,” he coos. He pulls an arm out from between your thighs and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, a disgusting display for you that has you nearly cumming right there. 

After he determines you tortured and his fingers slicked enough, he moves forward again and slides said fingers up into you. Your back arches again and Jin smirks.  You’re a penetration girl just as much as you are a clit girl, and Jin knows he has you hook, line and sinker.  He’s unlocked your formula and plans to see it to your very end. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs adoringly as he fucks in and out of you. “So nice and wet for daddy. Getting my fingers so slick.” He groans. His cock is hardening rapidly, and he moves his hips on the bed for some stimulation. “I can’t wait to fuck this sweet little hole. I’m going to be the only one who ever makes you cum, and I will always make sure you fucking cum.” He promises.  

You’re whimpering with a pleasant mixture of need and satisfaction as he thrusts his digits into you. Jin’s taking his time, which leaves you breathless, gasping for more and more. You want to be greedy and tell him to take you now, so hard and fast, but you want to make this last forever. Your pussy has never felt so alive and vibrant with desire as it does right now. 

Jin returns to his post, mouth firmly attached to your clit as he picks up a pace with his fingers.  He’s suckling again at your nub and you find it’s the perfect amount of pressure that has your vision darkening around the edges.  An impossible tight string is winding so tightly inside you and you feel it threaten to collapse your entire body.  

You allow your waning attention to focus on Jin for a moment, and you realize how he truly looks in his element.  It looks as if Jin should have been the one between your thighs this whole time.  You thought maybe this would feel wrong and perverse.  Instead, it feels as if you two have finally slipped together and fit into the picture perfectly, instead of trying to jam into spots not meant for either of you. 

It’s heady to think of him like this, your best friend who knows everything about you.  It makes sense now—it was always meant to be him in your life.  You’ve always wanted him to be the one who simultaneously makes you laugh and cum.  He was always meant to be the one for you; it just took until now to really understand it.

Jin picks up the pace again, and it washes away your thoughts as you feel him increase the speed and pressure of his tongue in time with his fingers.  His eyes are closed and he’s focused on this like it’s his destiny.  Your legs quiver in anticipation as the tightness pulls more, pulls harder and your cunt tightens around his fingers.  

It snaps the string inside you and your mental capacity.  All you feel is bliss as your body unravels at his hand.  Your channel pulses around him and he grins as he feels the clenching and hears your sweet and agonized moans.   You’re incapable of any coherent thought except Jin, Jin, Jin and how deliciously sweet he has made you feel and the ecstasy he has wrought out of you.

He allows you a moment to settle down from your high and pulls his fingers from you.  He presses a chaste kiss to your clit which makes you squeak at the over stimulation.

As you come back to life, panting breath slowing, he sits up on his knees and smiles at you.

“So, are all the rumors true?  Am I good?”  He looks smug and as much as you want to slap it off him, you can’t when he’s covered in your slick and looking incredibly sexy while doing so.

“Yeah, you’re good,” you breathe.   He grins back at you and moves to lay next to you on the bed.  You snuggle up beside him and throw your arm and leg over him.  It feels as if you’ve been doing this for years, as if this isn’t the first time you’re being intimate with your best friend of two decades.

After your breath settles completely, he looks over at you with a smile.

“You ready for round two?” He asks.

You’re moving and straddling his hips, rubbing against the hard length in his jeans.

“You know it, daddy.”

His hands quickly move to unbutton his jeans and shove them down and off his body.

“Well,” he quips with his signature grin. “We better get down to Jin’s-ness.”

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[chrisjake-cp]

History 3 Trapped Filming Diary (full English translation) - Days 1-10

Just before you start reading, a little note of explanation: the author of this diary will frequently use the character’s name when they mean the actor. I have added the names of the actors between square brackets sometimes to avoid confusion. Also between square brackets you will find some words that are implied, so I added them in the translation to make the translation a bit smoother, but they aren’t included in the Chinese text. 

The book’s author will also talk in the first person POV sometimes, refering to themselves as either “I”, “we” or “this little editor 小编”.  So each time you see me write “I”, it is not my own opinion I’m inserting in the text, but the author/editor’s. If I have anything else to add or explain myself, I’ll add it in a note at the end of the text.  

I’ll repeat: I don’t own the book so I can’t post my scans of the pictures that came with every day. So I posted some other pictures of the scenes that were being filmed with each day. These pics belong to LINE TV or Choco Media, or I’ve taken screenshots. 

Day 1-10 under the cut. 

Day 1

The first day of shooting happened to coincide with ‘Li Dong’⁕ but the temperatures of that day soared to 29 degrees. The crew was going sleeveless, but the actors were all wearing sweaters or dress shirts. Tang Yi, who had on the most, was wearing a turtleneck sweater and a suit jacket on top at one point, but he didn’t sweat very much.⁕ Meanwhile A De [Stanley], wearing a shirt and a suit jacket, was [clad] the ‘thinnest’ at the scene. When he got off work and took off his sweaty shirt, the wardrobe department exclaimed: “This shirt is so wet!”

Officer Meng’s scenes for that day consisted of eating from 10 am in the morning until 6pm in the evening. He basically ate from when he got to work until he got off work. All in all he had two large bags of rice and poured 4 liters of coca cola. Junhao [Jake] will start sweating profusely and start flushing when he eats spicy food, so as soon as the director yelled ‘cut’, the crew would immediately pass him a plastic bag so he could spit out the spicy Kung Pao Chicken he was eating.

⁕ Li Dong 立冬 literally means ‘establishing the winter’, so it is some kind of winter solstice in Asian culture. In the Gregorian calendar, it falls on 7 or 8 November. According to the IG stories of some of the cast of Trapped, it was indeed 7 November 2018 when shooting started. 

⁕ Chris apparently doesn’t sweat much, no matter how hot he gets. He says as much in his vlog as well. I envy him, because I’d just be sweating buckets like Stanley. 

Day 2

The first meeting between Tang Yi and Wenhao is also the second time that Chengyang [Chris] and teacher Jiakui [Chen Jiakui, the actor who plays Chen Wenhao] worked together. They cooperated for the first time on a movie. At that time teacher Jiakui served as the movie’s drama teacher. When Chris had gone through make-up in the early morning, he sat alone in a corner with the script. You could easily see that he was conflicted and upset. [For the other movie] teacher Jiakui was Chris’ mentor, but here Wenhao was the target of Tang Yi’s revenge.

In the process of their scenes where they faced each other, the director hoped that Tang Yi could hate Wenhao even more, but Tang Yi’s personality is subdued and calm. So how could he fly into a raging fit and still keep his calm? In a part that was not captured on camera, teacher Jiakui aggravated some lines to make Chris more infuriated. Afterwards teacher Jiakui also said that the role of Tang Yi is not easy to perform. [Tang Yi] is a young mob boss, The hate in his eyes must therefore also carry a bit of youthfullness, which is difficult to experience for normal people in the course of their lives.

Day 3

Today was the first time that Zhaozi arrived on set, and while he was bored waiting for his scenes, Zhaozi started to act as the shop’s clerk to sell suits. Apart from suits, bowties and regular ties, he even managed to sell shoehorns. By oneself, the words just kept on flying out of his mouth which left Shaofei beside him looking dumbfounded (if you want to see Shaofei’s dumbfounded meme-like look, you have to absolutely watch the behind-the-scenes on the DVDs)⁕. [Shaofei] continued to shout “If you buy a shoehorn you get Zhaozi for free with it, please someone take Zhaozi away, Unit 3 can’t stand it anymore.”

Boss Tang was tired, and took a nap in his own shop. ‘Just a little while will do. Shaofei and A De, you two be on the lookout for me, and if the director is coming, remember to wake me.’

⁕ Excellent advice. Please do watch the behind-the-scenes after finishing this book, because a lot of what is written here is visualized in the bts. The bts are arranged per episode though, and not per filming day, but it’s still amazing to be able to see what went on. 

Day 4

The set for the offices of Investigation Unit 3 is actually the office of LINE TV’s Choco Media branch. The contemporary industrial style caused the atmosphere among Unit 3 to be even more lively. 

For Unit 3’s first scene together, the director used a one-shot to have everyone appear on the scene, which meant that the first time all the actors were present, they had to have a ‘chemistry’ test. But apart from the actors, chemistry also had to be there for the whole staff, as the directing crew, the camera crew and the sound crew, really everyone, also had to follow [the actors] along⁕. I still remember that by the 20th take, everyone’s lines ran very smoothly, the shot was satisfactory and everyone was where they were supposed to be. The director and the crew were holding their breath in concentration, and just when they thought they’d succeed, A Zhi [character Zhou Guanzhi, played by Kass Tsai] forgot a line in the very last sentence hahahaha. In the end, this round took 27 takes.

⁕ The author uses a metaphor/reference here. They write 乾坤大挪移 which means something like ‘The Great Shift of the Cosmos’ and is apparently a kind of martial art from a martial arts novel. It consists of 7 increasingly difficult skill levels, whereby the 7th level is almost unattainable. In other words, shooting this one-shot scene required the whole cast and crew pulling off this great cosmos shift, and thus was a big, big challenge. 

Day 5

After we shot the scene where the two idiots from Unit 3 [Shaofei and Zhaozi] got into trouble and received an explosive scolding by Dapao [Shi Dapao, the name of Unit 3’s Captain]⁕, the director told Shaofei that she wanted to add a scene where he sat next to the window thinking about Sister Lizhen, continuing in the same mood [as the previous scene]...Everyone in Unit 3 felt that Shaofei was continuing to set his teeth into a meaningless old case. If there had only been some progress in the investigation...but [Shaofei] not only didn’t find any new leads, but he also got into trouble everywhere. If Sister Lizhen would still be alive, he wouldn’t be like this now...Shaofei really, really missed sister Lizhen. Rather than say that the director added this scene at the last moment, it’s more like she deliberately didn’t tell Junhao [Jake] that she would add this part. 

When they were shooting, the director played the music from the music box through the megaphone and from time to time talked as well, to provoke moody feelings in Jake. In the end Jake grabbed his phone and scrolled through his mother’s Facebook, and to all our surprise Jake started bawling, so much so that even after the ‘cut’ he couldn’t stop, until the director walked over and lightly patted him on the back. To be able to cry like that in a short amount of time, even he himself hadn’t expected that.

⁕ How much fun is it that the name of the Captain of Unit 3 literally means big cannon, when he explodes in anger all the damn time? 😂 I am quite convinced that in the hospital scene where Shaofei tells Tang Yi of his fortune-telling and that only a cannon can strike him down - he uses the exact same wording ‘dapao’ - it’s actually an inside joke and he may not have meant ‘cannon’ literally. 

Day 6

Today’s weather couldn’t be called very fine, and when we were shooting until 3 or 4 P.M., the daylight was almost gone, just when the filming location had large windows in every corner that reached the ground. Our funny director said “Why did the production team run out of light after 3 P.M.? Did they forget to send notice⁕ to the sun?” This caused the crew that was present to not know whether to laugh or cry. But in the end, before the sun got off work, everyone else smoothly finished their job as well.

⁕ the term “to send notice” is quite literal, but the word is indeed an entertainment industry term as well, that means to hire someone for a short amount of time or for a specific show, without there having to be a longer-term contractual agreement. So it could also be translated as “did they forget to hire the sun [to star in today’s scenes]?”

Day 7

It was a day with complicated feelings for Shaofei and little Tang Yi, as Shaofei discovered Tang Yi’s past history. 

Before going to meet the adoptive father of his lover, of course Shaofei had to straighten himself out first and shave his beard to leave a good impression. In the evening, today’s final scene was shot. Before starting filming, the director hoped that [Tang Yi’s] adoptive father could guide little Tang Yi’s mood, because the intensity of this scene needed to bring out the reason why Tang Yi’s feelings for Tang Guodong ran so deep and make everyone feel the warmth that Tang Guodong brought to Tang Yi even more. 

Under the constant conflict of raising [little Tang Yi] through much difficulties, a loud and clear slap came down heavily on little Tang Yi’s face. The silence at the [shooting] site caused the loud sound to be infinitely amplified, and the director and the crew were all shocked. When the ‘cut’ sounded, little Tang Yi instantly started crying, and the director rushed to the room immediately. On every crew member’s face was reluctance and shock. Meanwhile the adoptive father sat with his head down on the sofa, full of remorse. 

An extra tidbit from the same scene: the crew’s love for little gadgets

There are always a few conspicuous toys in front of the director’s monitor. She explained that these were toys that members of the crew who are close to her gave her to alleviate stress. I don’t know which toy is the director’s favourite?

 Day 8

For the setting of the toilets of Unit 3 we actually used the toilets in a department store. Zhaozi, who arrived at the store very early in the morning, was hit on by an older lady who was just coming into work. The lady said: “Aren’t you Zhao Youting [Mark Chao]? You definitely are Zhao Youting!!” Even though Zhaozi went on to deny it, the lady didn’t listen and believed that this handsome guy in front of her was Zhao Youting himself. 

Actually, Zhaozi passed on the above story [to us], and no one actually saw this older lady. Zhaozi often tells bluff stories with a straight face, but I [this little editor] have my reservations about its credibility. But be as it may, after he was told that he looked like Zhao Youting, Zhaozi’s acting skills immediately leveled up. So okay, whether or not the story was real, we thank this lady ‘from the legends’.

Day 9

Can I call you dad after this hug? 

I still remember the story of a friend coming out to his mother. He said to his mom: “I’m sorry if this thing disappoints you. I don’t dare to ask for your blessing. I just hope that you can show some understanding.” Through a chat message, his mother could only briefly reply: “If your other half is a good kid, I will give you my blessing.”

Many people in a same-sex relationship don’t dare to confess to the older generation and they don’t dare to ask for their blessings. Their only hope is not to be hated. It’s like that facing this society, and it’s the case when facing your beloved family. When Wenhao and Shaofei met each other, Wenhao gave Shaofei a hug. This hug must have carried [Wenhao’s] unspoken blessing. 

No worries, dear father-in-law. I, Officer Meng, will take care of everything (pats on the back). 

Wenhao and Guodong together brings its own hint of romance.⁕ The fighting was very intense that day, so much so that the police dispatched a Quick Fight Force team in concern [for the situation]. 

⁕ The term that the author uses is 腐味 (fuwei, the taste of fu). The first character, ‘fu’ is the same ‘fu’ that is used in terms like fujoshi 腐女子 and fudanshi  腐男子 (which are Japanese) but it’s the same pronunciation for that first character. So the author implies that there might have been something more than friendship going on between Chen Wenhao and Tang Guodong. They imply the same thing later in the book as well (day 60, where the two are called a CP). 

Day 10

A Mei [Stanley] who portrays A De, said that he was the expert in getting beaten [in this drama]. I say that Stanley definitely dedicated himself to taking on that role. Many times his head bumped into the wall and the crew told him to take a break, but Stanley couldn’t stop yelling “no no, hurry up, I’m familiar with it now!”

All the way through the end Officer Meng and Vixen⁕ no.1, A De, cheered each other on before ‘Action!’ [was called]. 

⁕ The word for vixen is ‘fox spirit’  狐狸精 in Chinese. I love that and I could probably write essays on this subject. In classical Chinese literature, foxes were most of the time portrayed as (mainly female) temptresses who seduced males for sex and then didn’t shy away from sucking the soul out of them, kind of like a succubus. If anyone is ever in the mood for some academic literature about foxes in late imperial China, I've got you covered  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3237790-alien-kind

So A De and Andy are constantly referred to as these foxes who want to seduce Tang Yi and snatch him away in front of Shaofei’s eyes.